


How to Handle The Handler

by Spellina



Series: This Is Not Happening [1]
Category: The Umbrella Academy (Comics), The Umbrella Academy (TV)
Genre: BAMF content, Ben & Klaus are totally brosbands, But I regret nothing, Crack Treated Seriously, Crack pairing with much feels, F/M, Humor, I Don't Even Know, Implied Sexual Content, Klaus discovers his powers, Love/Hate Potato/Potato, M/M, May The Fourth Be With You, No meta we die like ben, No one's ready for Klaus' truth, Occasional Angst with a Happy Ending, Pansexual Klaus Hargreeves, Romance, The Hargreeves might be clinically insane but who knows, pardon my french, so many puns, star-crossed lovers
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-18
Updated: 2019-06-23
Packaged: 2020-03-07 05:35:25
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 18
Words: 43,133
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18866785
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Spellina/pseuds/Spellina
Summary: Five years after the end of season 1, The Handler accepts Five's pact to become an ordinary human for five years. Conditions: they can't hurt each other and she spends the first months with them.Problem is, there’s no way The Handler can handle any of these lunatics for that long. Especially not Number Four.“Why always kill?” wondered Klaus. “Why not save someone, or change their mind? Give them drugs! Once I took mushrooms, I swear I became a butterfly for a week! Or you know what you could do? Make people! Play matchmakers so people get laid and pop out babies that change the course of history!”“I’m not listening to this nonsense anymore,” sighed The Handler.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Post season 1 canon-end! Physically, they're almost 18, but their conscience is 35, or more, for Five and Klaus. Vanya and Five are already together for some time, I’ll publish that story when I'm finished writing it. 
> 
> All my Umbrella stories are related to each other, they're just not in the same time slice, but I always make sure you don't have to read my other works. This is actually the second arc of a series. I’m going full George Lucas on you guys: sequel first, prequel later! There will also be a companion piece about Klaus’ and Dave’s life in Vietnam. 
> 
> The only thing you might want to know about previous events here, is that Vanya is not the same shy, insecure person anymore. First, because she got reunited as one with her alter-ego, the White Violin, her “extraordinary” self, who is a bit bitchy like in the graphic novel. Also, because she grew confident as she spent four years among her siblings. They all did, really. A lot of family bonding time.
> 
> The Handler has an actual power to make unbreakable pacts. So, just like in the comics, Five ended his five-year contract with the Commission. He only escaped because they didn’t let him go at the end of it. Also, The Handler didn’t get shot by Hazel, or didn’t die from it and was completely healed, whatever you prefer. (Though you know, I’m suspecting the screenwriters will bring her back as she was in the original story, a goldfish in a bowl on top of a robot-body.)
> 
> Pardon My French! Occasional swearing is my French way to live. Plus, don't hesitate to correct my mistakes, I'd be happy to edit that.
> 
> There are a lot of Easter eggs, pop-culture references or inside jokes related to the graphic novel all through this story, I’ll leave you to find them.
> 
> Your kudos and comments are rewarded with my eternal gratitude!

**Deal with the Devil**

\- 2007 -

 

Five was in his father’s study, cogitating over one of the old man’s most shadowy reports. Of course, that overly paranoid son of an outer-space-bitch would encrypt his top-secret files into a brainfucking puzzle. Now, Five inherited the task of solving the goddamn mystery and a pretty bad headache on top of that.

That’s about when The Handler suddenly appeared, sitting casually on the boarder of the desk he’d been working on. It had been four years since Five had seen that devil, so forgive him if he didn’t have time to react before she took a report and started reading it.

“Hello, Five. Now what is that?”

Five snatched the paper out of her hands. “None of your business!”

The Handler smirked as his reached for his father’s gun. It wasn’t there. She had probably taken it before she even unfroze his space-time line. She obviously had learned from her mistakes.

“How about we talk before killing each other?” she offered graciously.

Five scowled and hurried to gather all the folders out of The Handler’s sight, under her mocking gaze.

“That’s okay, Five. Everything you do, it’s already happened before and it’s gonna end the same anyway.”

“What?” he blurted.

“Well you see,” she explained with delight, “you never got to that point in the hierarchy but I, for one, have access to the archives of _every_ previous version of this storyline. You want to know a secret?”

Five looked at her, terrified to his very core. The Handler feasted on his dread as she added:

“There was a version of you who never time-traveled. Wanna guess what happens?”

“I’m not listening to your lies anymore,” Five muttered, going back to his decryption attempt.

“Five, just _think_ ,” she insisted, “How do you think I knew about you? I’ve tried, again and again, to convince you to join us. Yet you kept trying, again and _again_ to save your wife and newborn. Well, at some point you gave up on your child, there was no way Number Seven could go through childbirth without causing the Apocalypse. You tried everything and _failed. Every single time_. You even tried to put her back on her medication, she miscarried and blew up, as _always_. Countless times, you’ve watched your firstborn die and your heartbroken wife destroy the planet.”

“Well, thanks for the advice, I’ll consider adoption,” he replied with his fakest smile.

“Oh, but that story’s nowhere near finished. You started losing it after that. Went further back to make sure you never conceive this child. But we were always a step ahead. You actually had a vasectomy and still would refuse unprotected sex. The thing is, Five, it didn’t have to be your child.”

“You _raped_ her?!” he barked, furious.

“Of course not, what are we, savages? We inseminated her. _Way_ more efficient. Anyway, I waited for you to give up, but you finally went insane and killed yourself.”

“Touching story indeed,” Five gritted through his teeth.

“That’s why in _your_ storyline, I made it so you would time-travel _before_ you ever got attached to your precious sister. I let you rot in the Apocalypse for forty years _on purpose_ , so that you would, for sure, _finally_ get over that girl, but you’re just a stubborn bastard in every dimension, aren’t you?”

Five laughed, looking at her with pure condescension.

“Yeah, pretty sure I was just born this way.”

“How soon will I have to separate you two next time?” The Handler asked, growing impatient, “Surely there was a moment you didn’t love that girl yet, Five. Didn’t peg you for such a romantic.”

Five thought about it, then said, as a matter of fact:

“I hope you’re right.”

“Really, why?”

He looked at her with evil eyes and a spiteful smirk as he replied: “Because if there’s a version of me that doesn’t like her, he’ll blow her brains out before the Apocalypse could ever happen.”

“Well, that would be, indeed, unpractical for me,” The Handler admitted, “Look at us, sharing crucial advice to each other. I hope one day we’ll actually be working on the same team.”

“Join me, then,” Five suggested carelessly, “I could use the help.”

“Now, Five, that’s a ridiculous offer. Why would I join the losing side?”

Five shrugged.

“Who knows. There must be a reason I’d rather die among them than live with you.”

“I’m flattered, Five, I really am," she mocked, "but I’m just a _tiny_ gearing in a gigantic mechanism.”

“We both know that’s enough. We could save the world.”

The Handler got up from his desk, irritated by this insane idea.

“I’m no traitor, Five. And I don’t care for your world. I simply don’t see the appeal.”

“Let’s make a deal, then,” he offered, “You try living five years amongst us.”

“Now, Five, I don’t have the time for your nonsense...”

“Come on, Handler,” he dared, “it’s not like they’ll notice, you’ll be back before they even realize you were gone.”

“And what would be the point?” The Handler sighed.

“If you change your mind about the Apocalypse, you’ll be welcome to join us. We’ll protect you.” She scoffed at that. “You’ll be _free_ to live as you want, just as Hazel.”

“And if I don’t?” The Handler asked, “What’s my reward?”

“Well, you’ll have first-hand experience to help you predict the human behavior,” grumbled Five.

“I don’t need that, dear boy, I’ve meddled with humanity’s destiny since the dawn of time, I think I’m quite the expert on that matter. What else have you got to offer?”

Five pondered on that question for a few seconds, then answered:

“My life.”

The Handler suddenly seemed very interested.

“I’m listening,” she breathed.

“If, _if_ I can’t prevent the Apocalypse, after going back again and again… I won’t kill myself. I’ll join you and never look back.”

“You’ve betrayed me over such promise before, Five,” The Handler reminded with a raised eyebrow.

“Why would I betray you when I’ve got nothing left in this world? I pledge my life to you, even if I’d rather die. I’ll admit defeat and join you for real this time. I’ll never meddle with the storyline again.”

“Interesting,” she murmured, “I’ll give your offer a serious thought. Don’t get your hopes up, though, I doubt I’ll take you up on it. I’ll keep in touch.”

On that, she vanished. Five let out an exhausted sigh.

He was about to jump too when The Handler came back to announce: “I’ve decided to accept your offer, Five.”

“How long has it been for you?” he asked, a little bewildered.

She sat back on his desk as she answered: “A few days.”

“What made you change your mind?”

“Boredom, mainly,” The Handler sighed, “The Commission is quite dull without you outsmarting everyone. I need a vacation. As you know, _someone_ shot me in the head recently.”

“Not even sorry,” Five snickered.

The Handler sent him a dirty look.

“So where should I live?” she wondered in a haughty tone.

“I’m sure you’ll find your way around the city.”

“Well I’ll need accommodations for the beginning at least.”

“You’re not thinking… Handler, you are _not_ living with us.”

“Why not?” she asked with a smirk.

“Because you’re trying to kill us and I’m not giving you the opportunity to gather intel about my family, _obviously_.”

“Like I _care_ about your family,” she rolled her eyes, “If they’re anything like you, they’re just a bunch of spoiled, conceited, overly-paranoid children with a concerning case of hero-complex.”

“Yeah, that’s pretty much it,” admitted Five in a sigh.

“So can I stay?”

Five hesitated for a very long time, and The Handler tantalized: “Do tell me sooner rather than later, I’d hate to waste my time being denied on the first clause of a deal _you_ offered.”

“One week,” he said, showing one finger.

“One year,” The Handler negotiated, just for the sake of torturing him.

“One month,” argued Five, firm.

The Handler looked at him pointedly. Oh no, if she was agreeing to this, it wasn’t to spend her days with ordinary people.

“Five months,” he offered, “and you don’t mess with my siblings. You don’t try to recruit them, you don’t torture them with your sadistic stories, you do _nothing_ that could stop us from preventing the Apocalypse.”

“Can I still mess with you?” The Handler teased.

“You stay away from Vanya,” he warned, deadly serious, “No plotting, no handling.”

“I get it, Five,” she rolled her eyes again, “my intentions shall remain pure for the extent of my staying.”

“You’ll sleep in the guest room. No snooping around our stuff, not even our father’s – _especially_ not Father’s!”

“Oh yes, I’d forgotten about Sir Reginald, where is he?”

“None of your business,” snapped Five.

“Five, did you kill your own father?” she asked suspiciously with a mocking smile.

“ _None of your business_.”

“Well I’m a guest in his home, I’d like to pay him a visit.”

“I’m sorry, did you know my father?” asked rhetorically Five, like this couldn’t be.

“Quite biblically, I’m afraid.”

Five shuddered, overwhelmed by a sudden nausea. “I don’t wanna know! No, scratch that! It’s too important, _tell me_.”

“Well I can give you details but that’s a bit private, don’t you think?”

“Not that!" he snapped, "How do you know him? Did he work for the Commission? God that would explain so much, that’s how he knew about time-traveling, and the Apocalypse, did he…?”

Her sadistic smirk stopped Five in his track of thought.

“You’re messing with me again!” he accused, pissed.

“Who knows?” chuckled The Handler.

Five was furious. There was no way to tell if she was lying.

“Five months! Not one more before you fuck off to wherever.”

“Five months,” she nodded.

“No alien tech, no powers, no _nothing_ of that sort. From now on, you’re an ordinary human. We don’t try to kill you, you don’t try to kill us, for five years. Do we have a deal?”

“It’s a deal,” The Handler agreed.

As they shook hands, Five had the strange feeling he’d just sold his soul to the devil herself.


	2. Chapter 2

**Welcome to Hell**

\- 152 days left -

 

The Handler was welcomed by Grace. The blond doll greeted Five, then addressed the Handler a warm, well-mannered smile: “Good morning, dear. To whom do I owe the pleasure?”

“Mom, this is the Handler,” grumbled Five, “She’ll be living with us for a while. Warn me the minute she does anything suspicious.”

The Handler was not used to shake hands without making a deal but did it anyway.

“Nice to meet you, Miss Handler, I’m Grace.”

“The pleasure’s all mine,” the Handler greeted back.

“How long will you be staying with us?”

“A hundred and fifty-two days, not one more!” answered Five, going to fix himself a drink from the bar.

“Now, Five, don’t be rude,” scolded courteously Grace. “I’ll prepare the guest room. Let me know if you need any help.”

On that note, Grace left. The Handler walked to join Five at the counter and sat next to him while he prepared a heavily charged cocktail.

“Are you aware that your mother is an android?” she asked, more amused than concerned.

“Obviously,” Five scoffed.

“Well that explains your fondness for that mannequin of yours,” she commented lightly.

Five sent her a murdering look. The Handler smirked as she extended a glass to him, and he reluctantly prepared a drink for her too. She was about to tease the scowling man, when a voice called from afar behind them. A young man appeared from the stairs, wearing a black outfit that the Handler believed could only belong to a sadomasochistic exotic dancer.

“Hey guys have you seen my grinder? It’s sparkly pink with cute little dicks engraved, and I swear to God, if Ben took it-!”

The stranger stopped on his track as he noticed the Handler.

“Now who is that?” he asked, intrigued and a little predatory.

“The Handler,” Five grunted somberly.

Five took a long sip of his drink to give him strength toward the perspective of suffering his evil ex-boss for the next five months, while Klaus shook the Handler’s hand with a dazzled face and said in a shamelessly flirty tone, “Now I wouldn’t mind _you_ handling _me_.”

The Handler let out a genuine surprised chuckle and replied, “Maybe when you’re a little older, -–?”

“Klaus!” he blurted, “I’m Klaus, and you know, I’m actually a _lot_ older than I look.”

“Are you, now?” she smiled politely, sending a suspicious look at Five.

Precisely the type of info the Handler didn’t need to know, Five thought, and kicked his brother’s leg. Klaus didn’t let go of the Handler’s hand, but bent himself backwards to whisper to Five’s ear.

“Trust or kill?”

“Neither,” groaned Five.

Klaus stood up straight again and went back to his loud, inappropriate self. Five dubiously watched the man make a fool of himself, pretending to be crazier than he actually was by keeping his charade of coming on to the Handler.

“Frankly I’m _hurt_ , Five!” Klaus exclaimed dramatically, “What do you mean I’m _too young_? I’m legal and _very_ consenting, isn’t that enough for _love_?”

“Aren’t you also very gay?” Five interrupted.

“Pansexual, dear,” he corrected, then turned back to the Handler, “Don’t listen to him, sunshine. He’s just a grumpy teenager, but I’m an _old soul_.”

Klaus put his hand on his heart on those last words, seemingly moved to tears by his own speech, which apparently wasn't finished.

“I mean, the _things_ I’ve _seen_ , you wouldn’t believe! Orgies, bondage, _tentacles_! Even partied with a furry once, now that was to _die_ for…”

He let out a deep, nostalgic sigh at this memory, then suddenly got out of his reminiscence.

“So, have you seen my grinder?”

By that point, the Handler was quite sure that man was simply insane. How refreshing was that. Quite amused at his performance, she politely replied, “No, I’m sorry.”

“Well, that’s okay,” Klaus sighed again.

He looked tragically disappointed and exhausted now, but Klaus kept absentmindedly patting the top of her hand, until something in the air apparently startled him to the point that he jumped, finally let go of her hand and decided to walk out the room.

“Tell me if you find it,” he said nonchalantly as he hurried out, “And if Ben has it, tell him I’m spicing his breakfast tomorrow. Or don’t, whatev’s!”

Just like that, the crazy boy was gone.

“What a _lively_ young man,” chuckled the Handler.

“Understatement of the year,” Five agreed.

“Here I came with the idea that you would be the craziest one.”

“And soon you’ll leave with the knowledge that I’m the sanest,” snarked Five.

“That’s peculiar, to say the least. I mean, you did spend decades alone in the Apocalypse.”

“Sure, but apparently a minute in this madhouse can mess you up just as well, so you might have done me a favor here, Handler.”

“Well, consider me intrigued.”

Five took a time to think, then asked, suspicious: “Is it too late to add a no-sex clause to the pact?”

“Yes,” purred the Handler.

“You’ll be the death of me,” Five moaned.

“In more ways than one,” she quipped.

The Handler already loved her vacation. She had five months to make Five pay for that M26 grenade, and if she couldn't hurt him, she could torture his mind every step of the way. She had no intention to ever pursue the eccentric pot head, as charismatic and hilarious as he was, she wasn't going to fall into that kind of trap. But Five's hell was her own personal paradise, therefore, he didn't need to know that.

 

 


	3. Chapter 3

**Three strikes and you're out**

\- 152 days left -

 

“So,” started Five, “I did something stupid. But like, 92% stupid, 8% genius?”

He explained the situation for a few minutes, keeping check of everyone’s reaction as he spoke. Luther seemed on the verge of a heart attack, Diego had already two knives in his hand and Allison was looking at him as if… well, as if he’d invited the freaking Devil into their home for five freaking months.

“I’m just as bothered by it than the rest of you,” Five kept on.

“Are you, though?” Klaus teased, “Because that hot babe seems quite into you.”

Vanya glanced suspiciously at Five, while Klaus received a slap on the back of his head from his brother, who’d never missed an occasion to hit him since he came back to life.

“ _Ow_!” he whined, “Well I’m not lying! I’m sorry Vanya, but that woman is clearly trying to weasel her way into your man’s pants.”

“I know you’re not, Klaus. I already figured that by myself.”

“No, she’s not,” corrected Five. “She’s only after my _brains_.”

They all looked at him as dubiously as they could.

“And my powers, will you stop already?! I’m not interested in her, I fucking _hate_ her!”

“Yeah, it really doesn’t matter anyway,” sighed Diego, getting his knives ready, “I’m gonna kill the bitch.”

“What? No, you can’t!” protested Five and, surprisingly, Klaus.

“Well if he doesn’t, I will,” said Luther, bumping his fists together.

“Don’t,” interrupted Allison calmly, “I’ll rumor her, that’s simpler and we could make a good use of that evil witch. It could make us win against the Commission.”

“You can’t, Allison,” pleaded Five, “It counts as hurting her. The second you’ll open your mouth, it’ll break the pact, she’ll have her powers back and you’ll be dead.”

“So you made a pact with our worst enemy and now we can’t even _hurt_ her?” she shrieked.

“Because that’s not the fucking _point_!” he yelled back, “And it’s only for five years. Listen to me, the goal here is either to befriend her so we can get her to _join us_ , or to find a way make her life a living hell without hurting her so she’ll leave the place and mind her own fucking business!”

That got everyone to calm down for a second.

“Yeah I’m gonna make the bitch pay,” Diego said. “I’m gonna scare the devil out of her.”

It wasn’t really a surprise. Though she was alive in this timeline, he was still mourning over the Detective Patch he lost because of The Handler’s subordinates.

“Well, I _won’t_ ,” decided Klaus, “there’s much better use to make of her.”

“You disgust me, Klaus,” complained Ben, “but I’m one the befriending side too. That’s the whole point of this, and we’re stuck either way, so we should at least try.”

“I’ll try my best,” agreed Allison, “but I doubt it’s gonna work.”

“Then I’ll try too,” joined Luther, and added under Diego’s judgmental glance, “I mean, she did agree to the pact so there must be some humanity left in her.”

“I wouldn’t be so sure,” Five replied, “she’s a professional manipulator, she just wants to make me her pawn for the rest of, I guess, time.”

“It’s gonna be hell for you, man,” said Ben, pity in his eyes.

“Yeah, way worse than the Apocalypse, I know,” admitted Five. “But it’s worth the risk. And we need to take advantage of the opportunities we have at hand and do the _smart thing_.”

“You know what would have been smart?” Vanya finally talked, her arms crossed. “Not selling your soul to the fucking devil.”

“Well if it could save the world, it’s a little price to pay.”

Vanya sent him a look that told him in details the story of how much she’d like to blow up his brains, but thankfully for Five, Allison asked her:

“Vanya? You didn’t say what you chose to do.”

“I’m gonna torture her the Hargreeves style,” declared Vanya, “I want to mess with her until she doesn’t know who she is anymore.”

That shocked everyone into silence for a few seconds, until Klaus stamped his foot and whined, clearly torn.

“Oh, _damn it!_ Now I really want to do that too, how am I _ever_ gonna _choose_?”

Ben laughed and tapped gently on his shoulder.

“You can do both, bro, you just have to be your natural, annoying self and she’s gonna lose her mind.”

“Oh yeah, you’re right,” realized Klaus, suddenly cheerful again. “Oh, so you mean, I can save the world by just doing what I like to do? Best mission _ever!_ Thank you, new Daddy!”

Klaus went to kiss Five’s cheek who barely refrained his impulse to bite the fuck out of that weird-ass while he also shuddered at the idea of being compared to the old fucker that raised them. He swiped furiously his face and told Vanya very seriously:

“You can’t get near her, V.”

“Why not?”

“Because I said so,” he scowled, “You will leave the room the instant she enters it.”

“Five, you don’t give me orders. You’re not my _father_.”

“Yeah, she’s right,” agreed Diego, casually throwing knives into the ceiling, “You’re the one who put us all in that mess to begin with. You don’t get to order us around after that.”

“Yes, I can!” retorted Five, “I’m smarter than all of you combined!”

“You just did the stupidest thing anyone has ever made!” reminded Allison, scandalized by his stubbornness. “Even _Klaus_ is smarter than that!”

“Hey!” yelped the man in question, “You can’t even tell when I’m stoned or not, so _you’re_ the stupid ones.”

“No, Klaus, it’s just that you don’t make any sense either way!”

“I make _sense!_ It’s not my fault you guys never believe me about _anything_. For _years_ I’ve told you that Ben was with me! Fuck that, I’ll just change my name to Cassandra and become a freaking _medium_ , then at least people will pay me for the truths they don’t want to hear!”

“Well do that, then,” Allison replied, not even sure herself if she was being sarcastic or not.

“You’d make a fortune, bro,” agreed Ben honestly.

“Yeah I’d pay for that shit,” commented Diego absentmindedly, still throwing his knives around his adopted father’s study.

“Well,” mumbled Klaus, taken aback by their unexpected support, “maybe I’ll do that then.”

Meanwhile, Vanya and Five had been whisper-fighting, until Vanya decided she had enough and went to storm off the room. Five jumped between the door and her:

“You have every right to feel that way, Vanya, but –”

“I have the right to… Oh, you mean I’m allowed to _feel?_ You’ll _allow_ it?”

“No, that’s clearly not what I mean and you know it,” he growled.

“Five!” scolded Vanya, “Just so we’re clear, you’re not the boss of this family, and you’re certainly not the boss of _me_. You know what? As Number Seven, I believe that _I_ am. In fact, I name _Allison_ as the new head of this family!”

“What?!” yelped all the men in unison, as Allison scoffed: “Fine by me!”

“Why _her_?” complained Luther.

Vanya and Five kept glowering at each other when she muttered:

“Because she’s the only one who ever had a family of her own.”

“Yeah, she did a great job of that,” ironized Diego.

That got Vanya to turn around and glare at him:

“Yes, she did. She loved that child and still wouldn’t misuse her powers to get her back, and now she _lost_ her because none of us listened to her. That’s my decision and it’s final!”

Asserting her verdict, the chandelier’s light bulbs exploded.

“Well, almighty Sis,” mocked Klaus, shaking his head like a dog to get the tiny shards out of his curly hair, “why don’t you run this family yourself?”

“I can’t deal that kind of pressure on my shoulders.”

“I think it’s a good idea,” said Five, calmly nodding his head.

“You’re only agreeing to this madness to please her!” complained Luther.

“ _Excuse me?_ ” exclaimed Allison, “You know what, I’m having Ben as my first hand.”

“What?!” yelped Klaus, Luther and Diego, while Ben high-fived Allison.

“Yeah that’s actually pretty wise,” approved Five.

“I’m up for it!” grinned Ben.

“I am _not_!” squealed Klaus. “You don’t know him like I do, he’s a commanding little –” Ben hit him slightly in chin to close his mouth, “ _See?!_ A bloody tyrant in disguise!”

“Shut up,” chuckled Ben, “Like you’d be alive if it weren’t for me!”

“Oh, you mean your never-ending _whining_ in my ears? Yeah, right!” Klaus scoffed, before Ben kicked his foot, “Ow! _Allison!_ He just hit me again! _Do something!_ ”

Five joined Vanya’s side, who was now observing the scene serenely, her back against the wall. He brushed her hand with his pinkie and joked:

“You keep blowing up everything on your way, don’t you?”

She just chuckled, so Five asked, out of concern:

“You’re sure about this?”

“I’m sure,” Vanya nodded, then looked at him, a bit suspicious, “You’re being strangely accepting of this.”

“Mm, I’ve been dealing with Allison my entire childhood, I know what makes her tick.”

“Oh yeah, you two used to be best friends, I almost forgot.”

“Plus, I never listened to the old man anyway, I’m not obeying his successor.”

She smirked at that, and the reality hit Five suddenly. Allison had the power to submit anyone, even their sociopathic pretense of a father.

“You did that on purpose,” he accused, clenching his jaw.

“So you’ll listen,” replied Vanya.

“So I’ll _obey!_ ”

“Five,” she said, taking his hand in hers, “You can’t lead this mission. You’re emotionally compromised. We both are.”

That was true, but it didn’t stop the inner turmoil inside Five.

“I know of things that she can’t even _comprehend!_ ”

“Yes, but she’ll listen,” she reminded wisely, “She was made for command after all.”

Five followed her gaze that leaded to Allison, suddenly surrounded by requests from her siblings. He was never following orders from a woman he’d seen attempt to put a marshmallow in her nostril for no better reason than curiosity, damn it. Well, they were six, but still... 

 

 


	4. Chapter 4

**Don't poke the Apocalypse-bearer**

\- 145 days left -

 

The first thing Five did after their previous discussion had been to warn all his siblings about their new guest. Apparently, and to the Handler utter delight, that conversation did not go well. At all. Especially for Number Seven, who, according to the screams Grace heard from the other side of the house, deprived Five of his self-proclaimed title as head of the family. From what she’d understood, the fight had occurred because Five had formally forbidden Number Seven from ever going into the same room as the Handler. That was the only information she could gather from the lovely doll.

A week went by, and most of the inhabitants of the house had talked to her, except for…

“Hi,” greeted Vanya.

“Hello,” replied the Handler warily.

Five had told her she could not speak to the Apocalypse human-bomb, but was it a breach of her pact if Number Seven was the one who came to her? Should she warn her of who she was? Apparently, Vanya could hear her thoughts and she reassured her with a friendly smile.

“It’s okay, I know who you are.”

“As do I,” smirked back the Handler, “You’re very famous in the multiverse.”

“Am I? Oh, you mean as the bringer of the Apocalypse...”

“Yes, I love what you do by the way,” confessed the Handler as if they were talking about her music, “I could always count on you. An excellent job, with _impeccable_ timing, every single time.”

That ought to make her go the hell away, calculated the Handler. But it didn’t. Number Seven kept her smile and replied with a disturbingly honest tone:

“Well, happy to learn my failures bring joy to someone. I just want to say thank you.”

“And for what, dear child?” asked the Handler, getting a little annoyed.

“For accepting the deal.”

“You’re being very optimistic if you think I’m going to join your team, sweetie. I won’t.”

Vanya took the Handler’s hand in hers, softly caressing her palm with her thumb.

“I mean for saving Five’s life. Now, either we stop the Apocalypse, or we don’t and Five survives.”

The Handler sent her a suspicious look and took her hand away from that woman, who could only be trying to befriend her, fuck her or fuck with her. None of which was to the Handler’s taste, so she replied with pure disdain:

“Yes, I understand how this is a win-win situation for you. You do get, though, that he will not lead a happy life. He sacrificed his only way-out to a lifetime of misery.”

“I’m sure he’ll find happiness again,” shrugged Vanya.

“He won’t,” The Handler corrected with sadism, “He never did. Thousands of scenarios ending with him killing himself because he couldn’t take it. Such a waste. If you weren’t the cause for the Apocalypse I’d have you killed at birth.”

“I agree.”

The Handler didn’t expect that comeback, and Number Seven kept on:

“That would be a waste. That’s why I’m counting on you to be his friend during these dark times.”

“Not that I really care, but Five doesn’t want to be friends with me.”

“Because you keep trying to kill us,” amended Vanya, “But if you didn’t, if you fought with him against the Apocalypse, then from allies you could become friends. He would trust you, and when we fail again, you two could be working together at the Commission.”

“You don’t think we could stop the Apocalypse even if I joined,” the Handler realized suddenly.

“Of course not,” Vanya scoffed, “It seems obvious that it is God’s will that things must happen this way.”

“I’m met the rulers of the Temporal Commission, Number Seven. They’re very powerful but they’re not God, dear.”

The second she’d said that, the Handler regretted it. Vanya’s innocent smile stretched into a mischievous one, an icy-blue color flashed in her eyes, and for a second, her body posture changed as if she had turned into a completely different person. That madwoman still had a dissociative personality disorder, the Handler deduced, and even though she looked like the picture of weakness, she was not to be trusted. Vanya let out a sigh:

“Well, that’s a relief.”

“You still won’t win,” warned the Handler, looking at her with caution.

“Mm… Won’t I, though? If they’re not God, and they need _me_ to cause the Apocalypse, I’m willing to bet I’m deadlier than they are.”

Assessing her mental damage to be enough, Number Seven left the scowling Handler paralyzed with the sudden realization she’s been played at her own game. By the door, Vanya turned around to tell her with a sly smile:

“I look forward to working with you, Handler.”

“I won’t join you!” growled the Handler to her leaving figure.

Vanya kept walking, making a dismissive hand gesture and added with a careless tone that reminded The Handler of her crazy brother Klaus:

“Yeah, well, it’s gonna be a _blast_ with or without you... See ya!”

Just like that, the Apocalypse bearer had left her chaos on the Handler's lap.

 

*

 

The Handler stormed to Five, who was once again drinking at the counter. This man had a serious alcohol problem, but who cared, there were more important issues at hand, in particular, hers.

“Your sister is messing with my mind,” she complained imperiously.

Five turned around, not so much surprised as he was surprisingly delighted to hear that.

“Which one?” he asked.

“The crazy one!” the Handler grumbled.

“You’ll have to be a little more precise. We all are, didn’t you get the _rumor_?”

She glared at Five who was clearly enjoying every bit of her annoyance. She rolled her eyes, and replied:

“You know I’m not touching that one with a ten-foot pole. I’m talking about the other one, your _wife_.”

Five immediately lost his smile and pointed a warning finger at the Handler.

“I thought we had an understanding. Don’t poke the Apocalypse bearer, Handler.”

 _“She_ poked _me!”_ she yelped, indignant.

Five looked a little concern for a second, then his infuriating smirk grew back.

“What happened?” he asked, genuinely curious.

The Handler took the seat next to him and explained with disdain:

“She came to me, _thanking me_ for sparing your life.”

“Yeah, it is _weird_ how honestly grateful she is about that.”

He sighed and lost in a dreamy gaze for a moment, then added fondly:

“She’s such a sweetheart sometimes...”

“A manipulating psycho is what she is!” retorted the Handler, out of patience.

“Yes, that too,” Five admitted, like she made a good point, “So what happened?”

“She started telling me all about how the only way for you accept the inevitability of Apocalypse without going _berserk_ would be for me to _join_ you!”

Five laughed, honestly surprised.

“Well, she’s got a point... Why do you care? I already signed away my soul to you.”

“It’s not the same if you’re dead inside,” she sulked, “You’ve always been a lunatic but at least you’re driven.”

“Join us then,” chuckled Five.

“Listen to me, Five,” the Handler warned, “There is no way – _no way!_ – I’m risking my position and _my life_ to keep you sane.”

“Then _don’t_ ,” he mocked, “See if I care about going nuts. I don’t see why it bothers you so much, either. Nobody’s forcing you to do anything and you’ve made your choice so _yeah you_.”

That’s when it occurred to the Handler that Five had no idea.

“Ha!” she scoffed, “You don’t know.”

“What?” he sighed, rolling his eyes.

“Your wife believes she can destroy the Time Commission,” she informed, waiting for his panicked reaction.

Five frowned, surprised and disbelieving, but not really scared.

“I’m sorry, _what_ now?”

“Yeah, she’s got quite a grandiose ego herself, you know. Going on about her being a deadlier weapon than they are. Of course, we can’t hurt her in return because we need her to trigger the Apocalypse, yadda-yadda-yadda, but come _on_ , Five, she’s…”

“…a _genius!”_ he whizzed, disappearing immediately.

“She’s _insane_!” The Handler screamed to an empty room.

 

*

 

Five found Vanya in the middle of a bath, her head still underwater. He knew she did that when she was overwhelmed by all the sounds her powers made her hear. Five wondered if she was serious when she threatened Diego into leaving the toilet seat down by insinuating that she could hear any sound from the other side of the house. Smiling at the memory of his brother’s horrified expression, Five softly brushed Vanya’s hand laying on the side of the bathtub. She suddenly jumped out of panic. Five got violently slammed against the door to the other side of the bathroom and the window and mirror cracked into pieces.

“Knocking, doors, _privacy_ , Five!” Vanya barked at him.

“Jeez, calm down,” he groaned, “I come in peace.”

Five patted the back of his head to check if it wasn’t bleeding. Though she was still scowling, Vanya looked at him expectantly and Five showed her his hand, clean from any blood.

“And in one piece,” he reassured.

She let out a sigh of relief, laid back in the tub and closed her eyes as she asked him with a hint of annoyance:

“What do you want?”

Five chuckled, came to sit against the edge of the tub and teased:

“Well I was thinking of joining you, but I’d hate to trigger the Apocalypse so early in the morning.”

Vanya gave him an unimpressed glare. She was still pretty pissed at the intrusion, then. Five talked again with a careless tone, like the subject was trivial:

“So, I had a chat with The Handler.”

Vanya’s lips turned ever so slightly into a sadistic smirk.

“I heard her whining, yeah,” she made a face.

“Do you hear _everything_ or…?” he asked, very suspicious.

She sent him a dirty look but Five didn’t notice, suddenly hypnotized by the circles her sponge made as she washed her arms. He shook his head, barely even remembering what he was thinking about, and pulled himself together:

“Not the point. So, you want to blow up the Commission?”

Vanya sighed, then explained:

“Well, that’s an option. I’ve been disregarded, underestimated my entire life, so now I’m the element of surprise. I only told the Handler so she’d consider joining us. I mean, it’s not like we can access the Commission without her anyway, so if she stays with them, that’s useless information for her. But after five years of free will, who knows, maybe she’ll think about it every time she gets bossed around. Don’t you think it might happen?”

She turned to Five, who was taking off his tie and shoes.

“I think it’s already happening,” he smiled.

Vanya watched her man undress and didn’t know if that pleased her. She was really looking forward to enjoy that bath by herself.

“So I’m your wife now?” she asked as a matter of fact.

Five let out a pained groan.

“You really do hear everything!” he accused, a bit angry. “What about _privacy_?”

“What’s a wife to do?” replied Vanya, “I’ll be checking your pockets and private mail, now, too, darling.”

Five was so annoyed by her teasing, he put his shirt back on and gathered the rest of his clothes.

“Five, wait!” she called.

He turned around, and she kept her face as serious as she could when she added:

“I’d really like to keep my last name, will you take mine?”

Five left, furiously slamming the door behind him.

“Remember to ask Dad for my hand first! He’s not gonna like it you know!”

“Shut the fuck up!” he yelled back from the corridor.

She let out a laugh, finally able to enjoy her bath by herself.

 _Privacy_.

The most underrated thing in this house, if you asked her.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please leave kudos and comments :) I know this is a pretty weird story, so I’m feeling a little insecure about it, I’d really like your feedback <3


	5. Chapter 5

**The first time Klaus saved the world, it was with his favorite drug**

\- 138 days left -

 

Ben hadn’t been that close to Vanya before he died and came back from the dead. Sure, they shared a love for books, but that was pretty much it. Then, he came back, and it was like she could smell it. Solitude. It somehow connected them in a very deep, metaphysic level. Ben had always been a pretty quiet kid, like her, but he was also everyone’s favorite brother. Because he was so ashamed of what he was, Ben didn’t really care for physical connection as he grew up, but having spent over a decade in the afterlife, he now reveled in every touch he could. Mostly, he enjoyed smacking (but rarely violently) his own favorite, stupidest brother. The idiot called him his abusive husband, but Ben didn’t care about that. The thing was, there was a part of Ben who kinda wanted to feel alive too.

“Bentacles,” Klaus blurted before bursting into laughter.

“Shut up!” Ben snapped, a little ashamed.

When they learned the actual order of their ranking, Number Six wasn’t that surprised. It explained a lot. He was always too powerful for his siblings. Five was an interesting challenge, difficult to catch, but it quickly got boring. Ben wasn’t the kind of cat who got obsessed over blinking laser dots. Number One was too secretly terrified to even propose a match. You couldn’t pay Ben enough to ever attack Number Three, that woman could turn you into a bird or a boar if she wanted to, she’d just have to say the words. Ben spared against Number Two once or twice, and it was quite fun to squeeze a man who could hold his breath forever, but he still had to hold his strength or he’d just have crushed the guy into a tiny meatball. Also, knives? Painful as fuck.

Then, there was Number Four. There was no use fighting the chicken who once claimed immunity over the fact he was his “Best Bro Forever”. Ben didn’t even bother arguing over that. Firstly, because this may be the least stupid nickname Klaus had made up, and secondly, that moron was defenseless anyway. Or so it seemed at that time. Now that he could invoke the dead under a tangible form, Klaus had started to become friends with some sick motherfuckers that were willing to beat the shit out of anyone, anytime, just because they missed the feel of it. It had taken him years, but the family’s “failure” could now summon a whole fight club if he wished. Ben always thought Klaus had something of a Tyler Durden. Yet all his brother’s efforts weren’t enough to face his numerous tentacles, and most of the ghost were so horrified by them that they vanished instantly.

Finally, Vanya happened. Secret agent Number 007. The worst they had ever feared from that shy little girl was that she’d snitch all their misfits to Sir Reginald Hargreeves. What an unexpected turn of events. It didn’t feel like a touch, but as Vanya worked on her powers over the years, she soon became an actual combat challenge for Ben. It was so _soothing_ , there was no other way to say it, not to be the deadliest person in the room, fighting against someone you trusted wouldn’t hurt you, and you couldn’t really hurt. In the beginning, they were very careful. Ben didn’t want to cause the Apocalypse over an accident. But as Vanya shared the same fear, they exchanged sort of safewords for their fights. Hers was a sharp supernatural whistle that Ben hated so much that it kind of naturally made the tentacles crawl back inside him, and his was an actual high-pitch tongue-whistle that Klaus had taught him decades ago, a sound that Vanya loathed with passion, ever since they were children. So, now, Ben shared a lot with Vanya. The uncontainable power that needed to express itself but would go beyond control if they panicked was just another example.

It happened regularly that Ben, Vanya and Klaus trained together in the garden. At first, Ben had thought Klaus' occasional ghost-attacks were just his excuse to watch the combat, but he soon realized that his brother was essential in his very own way. Because if you ever were on the verge of dying, or killing someone, because panic or fury took over you, Number Four "Klaus" Hargreeves was your fucking guy. That masochistic son of a bitch would go all Tyler Durden on you and invite you to hurt him to let off steam. He’d do that in the most ridiculous, extravagant, offending, mind-fucking way, to the point that you kind of forgot what overwhelmed you in the first place. Well, at least that particular tactic worked on Ben. Twice.

Then, one day, Klaus surprised them even more. Vanya and Ben were in the middle of their most extraordinary battle, as in, they were being freaking gods in there, when one of Ben’s wild tentacles got unbridled and tried to smack Klaus out of the way so he could finally, finally win against his real opponent, that damn _violin_. Klaus was picking up a cigarette filter that had fallen in the grass when he noticed what was coming to strike him with frightening speed. He flinched, protecting his face with his hand, and the tentacle abruptly froze in the air above his “goodbye” palm.

Vanya made her whistle-sound happen and Ben’s tentacled retracted into his stomach. They were both exhausted anyway, and they let themselves fall on the ground to catch their breath. Well, mostly Ben. Vanya pricked up her ear, listening to every heartbeat so she could to make sure the Handler wasn’t eavesdropping, then said to their brother who got closer to them:

“You know, Klaus, I’m starting to think you might be able to stop the Apocalypse.”

Klaus let out a surprised chuckle.

“Oh, I’m sorry, dear sister. What now?”

“I’m serious,” Vanya insisted, “I think you just did telekinesis.”

“No I didn’t,” Klaus corrected, “ _You did_.”

“I think she’s right, man,” interjected Ben, “I’ve seen it too. How long have you been clean? Maybe –”

“Oh, really, Ben?” gritted Klaus, suddenly annoyed, “You want to bring that up _now_?” Then he snapped at thin air, “Shut up, Dave, this doesn’t concern you.” He paused a second, then replied, “No, because this is a _family_ matter, but also, yeah, dead people don’t get to boss me around!”

Vanya and Ben took a step back when Klaus got pushed on the shoulder by the invisible man.

“Well I’ll mind my tone when you mind yours!” Klaus exclaimed, indignant.

His siblings heard low mumbles surrounding them and a blueish form started appearing before their very eyes. Klaus was now out of patience, and replied with spite:

“Are you done? Let go!”

The blueish Dave kept a strong grip on Klaus’ forearm, and talked in a deep, firm voice that still sounded so far away:

“ _Who cares if you couldn’t save me!_ ”

“I care, _I care,_ you selfless _prick_! There’s no way, _no way_ , you hear me? No way in _hell_ you’d be dead if I had this power! I was clean then!”

“ _Who are you kidding here? You were shit-faced drunk, like the rest of us! It’s okay, Klaus, it’s too late for me but –_ ”

“Dave, this conversation is OVER!”

Neither Vanya nor Ben had ever heard Klaus scream so loudly before. He was levitating ever so slightly from the ground. Dave disappeared, leaving Klaus wretched and out of breath. While Vanya hesitated between hugging her brother and leaving him alone, Ben chose another path. He kicked hardly Klaus in the knee, making him fall onto the ground. When Klaus raised his face, he met the unimpressed, very judging glare Ben gave him.

“You’re a dick,” said Klaus, holding his knee.

“Well so are you. _Fuck_ you for rejecting everyone who believes in you.”

“Guys, don’t –” Vanya tried.

“No, Vanya, he needs to hear this,” Ben kept on, “You don’t want to reach your full potential? Fine! Go back to the streets, get as high as you want! Let your siblings die fighting a battle you can’t bring yourself to care about. I _dare_ you to look at Vanya in the eye and tell her you’ve done everything in your power to save her, because she, for one, has no choice but to _die_ to save your sorry ass! She doesn’t get to quit, she doesn’t get to live, and you’re the living proof that she doesn’t even get a decent family! Our only option is to _kill her_ , you _realize_ that?!”

Ben and Klaus both had their fists raised, but they got pushed away from each other in a second. The whole place started trembling and the warning-whistle nearly pierced their eardrums. They turned around to see Vanya shivering as her hands turned white.

“Guys!” she called in panic.

They instantly rushed towards her.

“Vanya, I’m so sorry, I-I didn’t think!” spluttered Ben.

“Van, fuck, what can we do?” asked Klaus.

“I don’t _know!_ This shouldn’t be happening!”

Her arms started whitening too.

“What do we do?!” Klaus turned to Ben, frantic.

“Don’t ask me!” Ben yelled back.

“Guys, Ben’s right,” whispered Vanya, “I think you have to kill me.”

“I’m not killing you!” they both yelped indignantly.

Five appeared by their side.

“What the fuck did you do?” he barked at Klaus.

“I don’t know, we were fighting – ”

“It’s my fault,” interrupted Ben.

“I don’t care!” Five snapped, then asked Vanya, holding her white wrists, “What do you need?”

“Go get my pills!” she ordered.

“Do we have time? I’m not leaving you.”

“Five, go, _now!_ ”

When Five disappeared, Vanya started to cry as she immediately turned to her brothers, and commanded, “One of you, _do it_ , quick!”

“No way!” rebuked Ben, “The pills – ”

“They’ll never work in time! Either I die or _we all do!_ ”

And that’s when Klaus saved the world for the first time of his life.

He pushed Ben away and pulled his sister into a tight hug.

“Klaus, what are you–?” tried Ben.

“It’s okay,” soothed Klaus, “You don’t need pills, you just need a hug. The best drug in the world... I should know, that’s how Dave got me clean. A good _tiiiight_ hug.” He held her so tight she let out a strangled squeal through her tears, and continued, “I mean you can still blow up if you want. It’s okay, I’ll hold you in one piece.”

Five reappeared with the pills.

“Klaus, what the –?”

“Shush, it’s working!” Ben silenced him.

Klaus was gently rocking his sister, his cheek on top of her head.

“Ben’s wrong you know,” he whispered, “You’d think he’s right because he’s so posh and Asian, but he’s always wrong.”

Ben gave his brother the finger and a silent “fuck you”. Klaus smiled at that and reciprocated in Vanya’s back.

“I’m not leaving you,” he consoled, “and I’m certainly not letting you die, because you’re my baby sister and I love you very much. Well, maybe not as much as Five does. I mean, you’ve got this cool grungy look going on that I like, and you do have a pretty cute butt,” he pinched it to make her yelp and laugh against his shoulder, then sighed, completely unaffected by Five’s murdering look, “and you smell nice… Kinda like home actually, I always wondered why. Maybe it’s because you were always there.”

Vanya had stopped shaking and now seemed asleep in his arms, yet Klaus continued softly, like a sing-song, punctuating every word of his question:

“Do-you-remember? I think we were five, practically babies, and you stepped on a snail with your _bare foot!_ A _tragic_ accident. You cried a _lot_. Nothing could make you stop... I thought it was because you had shell scraps under your foot, but you didn’t mind the pain. You _begged_ me to invoke that snail’s _spirit_ so I could tell it how very sorry you were.”

Klaus made a pause, a bit lost in his own reminiscence.

“And I tried, I really did, but nothing happened. You were looking at me with those big, teary eyes, so… I lied. I pretended to have a whole conversation with an imaginary dead snail, telling him he simply _had_ to forgive you because you never, _ever_ , meant to hurt him. An _outstanding_ performance, mind you.” He heard some little chuckle inside his arms, so he kept telling his dramatic story with a soft, theatrical voice, “And just as I was about to conclude the act... that sneaky, smashed-to-death snail really did appear! Now, I’m not gonna lie, it didn’t speak to me, so we’ll never know if it truly forgave you. But I think it did. It didn’t look very cross with you when it climbed on your shoulder?” Klaus sighed once more, and his face became a bit gloomy as concluded his childhood tale, “And that, dear Vanya, is the story of my very first voluntary invocation.”

As Klaus’ voice finished his strange sort of lullaby, Five stepped up to collect Vanya.

“Thank you, Klaus, I think that’s enough.”

“I don’t think so, I’m still hugging my baby sister, because I, too, need a hug. But you’re always welcome to join.”

That’s all the invitation Ben needed to come and hold their sides. Surprisingly, Dave did too. No one knew, but Klaus felt his arms tightly holding his waist and Dave's torso against his back.

“Guys, let her go,” Five insisted, “she’s asleep.”

“No she’s not,” retorted Klaus.

“N’ ’m ‘not,” moaned Vanya against her brother’s chest.

Klaus gave Five a winning smirk, his cheek still on Vanya’s head as he kept rocking her slightly.

“Either get in or get out, Five, but you’re not breaking that hug,” he declared.

Reluctantly, and after a long moment of hesitance, Five joined. He went behind Vanya and wrapped his arms around her waist. Klaus’ and Ben’s arms went around him too.

“This is the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever been a part of,” Five muttered.

“Yet you married a plastic doll,” hummed Klaus serenely.

“Don’t start a fight,” warned drowsily Ben. “ _Damn_ , what’s that feeling? I feel _high_.”

“Yeah, you feel it too?” asked Klaus, dazzled, “This hug’s a drug, baby!”

“It’s not the hug, dumbasses,” moaned Five sleepily, his face buried against Vanya’s neck, “It’s her.”

“You mean it’s _Vanya_?” asked Ben, incredulous.

Five nodded silently.

“Her humming,” he explained in a mumble.

“Oh yeah,” realized Klaus suddenly, his smile growing wider, “It’s like holding a purring cat. Hey, can I borrow her at night?”

“I will murder you,” warned Five in a soft moan.

“You know, Five,” whispered Ben, “you can’t keep threatening everyone around Van.”

“Sure, I can,” Five answered, practically asleep.

“Hey! What are you girls doing?” called loudly Diego, coming with Luther and Allison.

“And I’m out,” said Ben, leaving instantly.

“Yeah, me too,” agreed Klaus, disappointed, then asked Five as he took Vanya’s arms off his waist, “You holding her?”

Five nodded, suddenly all awake, ready to take on Vanya’s weight. Klaus had barely let go when they both disappeared. He would have felt so alone, had Dave not still been clinging to his back, murmuring kind loving words against his shoulder. He turned his head towards the others, and asked, in his most cheerful voice:

“Hey! Did I ever tell you about the time I tried to hug a cactus?”

Diego did an immediate U-turn, promptly leaving the place, muttering “Don’t even wanna know.”

“What?” blabbered Luther, apparently unable to register such random madness.

“Why would you do that, Klaus?” asked Allison, with serious concern.

“It was a _long_ desert and a _very_ lonely night.”

Wanting them to rush away a little bit faster, Klaus kept on.

“You know, it’s not as bad as it sounds. Kama Sutra meets the noble, ancient art of acupuncture... it was like _Pleasure: the final frontier!_ Oh, rest assured, my friends, I did go boldly where _no man_ has gone before. Now, why are you all leaving, don’t you want _details_?”

“Nope!” answered Allison as they all got inside the house.

Very proud of his own performance, Klaus chuckled, finally alone with Dave who was now leaving trails of cold kisses along his jaw.

“It’s getting too easy,” he smirked.

“It came to you so quickly, is any of it true?” wondered Dave.

“ _Dave!_ Don’t you know me but _at all_?” Klaus asked, pretending to be gravely offended.

“That is _precisely_ why I’m asking,” answered Dave, suspicious.

“Well, I don’t kiss and tell, but I’m telling you, that cactus kissed me first.”

 

 *

 

When the Handler came to Five’s room, he and Vanya were lying in the bed. She was sleeping peacefully, but he wasn’t, holding to her as to dear life.

“You won’t get that lucky next time,” she taunted.

“Go away, Handler.”

“Certainly a _hug_ is not enough to prevent the Apocalypse and you know it, Five. It only worked because it’s not her time yet.”

“Handler, please!” pleaded Five, on edge, “ _Please_ , just… leave us alone.”

She looked at him, his knuckles white from tightly holding the human bomb, and his fingers trembling ever so slightly.

“Alright,” she sighed, “I’ll give you two a break for tonight.”

“Thank you.”

The Handler didn’t expect the sincerity of this gratitude. It spoke great lengths as for Five’s desperation. She left, but mainly because it wasn’t in her interest for him to lose his mind yet.

She was long past pitying that fool.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please leave reviews and comments if you liked this chapter, I'm thinking of posting it as a one-shot too :)


	6. Chapter 6

  **You can't scare the Devil out of God**

\- 137 days left -

 

_Honesty is of God and dishonesty of the devil; the devil was a liar from the beginning._

Joseph B. Wirthlin

 

 

Diego rushed toward the Handler, Klaus and Ben running after him. He threw daggers that pinned her dress to the bench and proceeded to threaten her with another one under her chin.

“Did you do it?” he asked, deadly serious.

“Do what, dear child?”

The Handler knew exactly what he was talking about and played coy on purpose.

“Don’t make a fool out of me, woman!” barked Diego, “For _four years_ Vanya’s been doing great. Not _one_ incident. Two weeks you’ve been here, and suddenly she just lost it?”

“I can assure you, young man,” the Handler scorned, “that I’ve got nothing to do with that.”

On that note, she moved the knife away from her throat.

“How? Did you poison her food? M-m-mind-control her with your freakish alien tech?”

“Diego, calm down, she didn’t –” tried Klaus.

“And how would you know!” he yelled at Klaus, “How _any_ _of us_ could know if this vicious, manipulating b-b-b-”

The Handler removed the daggers that had just ruined her dress to get up and interrupted:

“Before you proceed to insult me further, let me remind you whom exactly you’re talking to. It wouldn’t take me a _second_ to erase you from ever being born because everything I mean to happen, _happens_. I’ve made a career out of it. Now don’t you think if I wanted your sister to blow up today she would already have?”

They all looked at her, horrified, and The Handler basked in their distress. She added nonetheless:

“I take great pride in never getting my hands dirty, Number Two, but I am not above it, so watch that stammering tongue of yours.”

“I’m unto you,” warned Diego before leaving.

He pushed away Klaus who had wanted to follow him.

“Did you mean for me to die?” inquired calmly Ben.

The Handler stared at him with her emotionless gaze. He didn’t look upset nor afraid, but he was serious. She paused, then answered, avoiding his gaze.

“Some things just happen.”

“So it was just an accident,” clarified Ben, just to make sure.

“Is anything really an accident?” asked rhetorically The Handler.

Klaus, who had been mumbling by himself, suddenly made a dismissive gesture to thin air, taking a deep interest in that conversation. Ben finally asked the question he meant all along, “I wasn’t collateral damage, right?”

“I’m not gonna lie, Number Six,” sighed The Handler, “it was fortunate for us that it split up your family. But there didn’t need any intervention on our part for that to happen.”

“You mean it was just God’s will?”

The Handler manifested her annoyance with a sharp snap of her tongue. “No, I mean sometimes _chaos_ organizes itself. And we, as organizers of said chaos, never fight what goes our way. If anything, you should blame free will. I know I do. But don’t even get me started on that…”

“Are we talking butterfly effect now? Or God’s will?” Klaus interrupted.

“There is no God, Klaus,” The Handler scoffed at that ridiculous idea.

“Sure there is,” he chuckled, “I met her! She’s cute, like a little Indian Vanya. A bit mean, though. Said I rubbed her the wrong way, but pff! Who cares?”

The Handler looked at that man who could only be joking.

“When did you meet God?” gasped Ben. “I never met her!”

“Well if she didn’t like me, I guess she must _hate_ you!” taunted Klaus.

“God doesn’t hate me,” grumbled Ben, sulkily crossing his arms.

“Hey, maybe that’s why she killed you so violently,” wondered Klaus.

“God didn’t kill me!” Ben kicked him.

“I’m _teasing_ , calm down already! Mm... She did seem on our side though. Hurried me back to life so we could do the dirty work for her and stop the Apocalypse. Not much of a doer, this one.”

That got The Handler up and ready to leave. She would not suffer through that kind of nonsense.

“You’re lying,” she accused, furious.

Klaus looked at her, honest surprise in his emerald eyes.

“What is it, Handler? Oh, _my_ …” he whispered with a lopsided smirk, “Are you afraid of _God_?”

“I’m certainly not afraid of your made-up God,” she snarled, leaving.

“Don’t worry, she’s a tiny girl, I’m sure you can take her!” Klaus called after her.

“You think she believed you?” asked Ben.

“Well that’s really more God’s problem than mine,” Klaus sighed, leaving himself.

“Wait, you mean it’s true? Klaus, did you meet God? Klaus!”

The problem was rarely that Klaus lied, but more that nobody was ever ready for Klaus’ truth.

 

*

 

A few days later, Klaus came by her room to ask her a few questions about the Commission and her motives in the occurrence of the Apocalypse. Apparently, Number Four was the kind of nutjob who was too stupid and careless to fear her. He was also quickly exhausting, and The Handler wouldn’t answer any of the Hargreeves’ questions anymore. She’d learned her lesson with Number Seven. So she let Klaus make his own assumptions from her silence, or sometimes simply lied to avoid the topic.

“Yes, but what do you get out of it?” pressed on Klaus.

“Well, maybe I was born in the far, far future and if you change the course of history I may never happen,” she suggested.

“Nah, that’s not possible,” chuckled the man.

“You’re very naïve if you believe this to be impossible, Klaus. I believe you already figured your father was an alien.”

“Oh, I’m not saying it can’t happen,” he rectified, “I’m just saying it didn’t for _you_.”

That madman made no sense and yet was too confident for her not to ask, “Why not?”

“Because you were born in the past, like, a _long_ time ago.”

The Handler froze.

“Who told you such a lie?” she lied.

“Well, maybe _God_ told me,” Klaus teased.

The Handler scowled and pushed him away from her room.

 

*

 

The next day, Klaus came back at her door with more questions, disrupting her reading of Sade’s work. It was mostly rubbish anyway, but still, she would rather be annoyed by a book than by Hargreeves Number Four. He was completely oblivious to that fact, and kept on:

“Why always kill? Why not save someone, or change their mind? Give them drugs! Once I took mushrooms, I swear I became a butterfly for a week.”

“I’m not listening to this nonsense anymore,” muttered the Handler.

“Or you know what you could do? _Make_ people, you know, playing matchmakers so that people get laid and pop out babies that change the course of history! Babies are nice. I wish I had one... Can you have babies, or are you like some kind of devil’s spawn that can only bring death?”

“I am certainly _not_ a devil’s spawn,” the Handler snarled, offended.

“Really? I mean you sure make a lot of pacts, and you do root for the Apocalypse, so I always figured you were the Devil.”

“Enough!” scolded The Handler, “I am not justifying myself to some loud, obnoxious, outrageous –”

“Outstanding,” Klaus provided with a cheeky smile.

“– _ridiculous_ kid who’s in love with the sound of his own voice!”

“Yes, that is true I am a bit eccentric,” Klaus admitted, “but I am a passionate lover.”

“Are you _flirting_ with me?” she asked, scandalized.

“You finally noticed,” he smiled softly. “Now what about that baby?”

The Handler furiously slammed the door in his face. She could hear his laugh and his step sounds as her left.

 

*

 

When Klaus entered his own room, Dave looked pointedly at him with crossed arms and a raised eyebrow.

“Was that really necessary?”

“Oh, like you don’t have a wife of your own,” snarked Klaus.

Dave rolled his eyes at this comeback but still admitted, “Point taken.”

Klaus sprawled on his bed, then asked him with a hint of cruelty, “Are you jealous?”

“Even if I was, I’d have no right to,” sighed Dave, sitting beside him.

Klaus sent him a dark glance, a little pissed. “It’s got nothing to do with you,” he whispered.

Dave’s expression changed into a judgmental scowl.

“Really, Klaus? You stooped so low, I can’t wait for it to backfire right into your scrawny ass.”

Klaus put his pillow over his head to smother a desperately furious groan, then violently threw it at Dave who disappeared for half a second.

“Dave, judge me all you want, but _you’re_ the asshole here,” he spat.

“There’s Five’s soul at stake here, Klaus,” Dave scolded, “and the _world_.”

“Yeah, see if I care,” grumbled Klaus.

“You promised Vanya you’d do your best!”

That got Klaus to sit up, materialize Dave and grab him by the collar.

“Listen to me, David Dead Katz, I love you from the bottom of my broken heart, but you will not change who I am. I’ll do as I fucking want, okay? Ghosts don’t tell me what to do. You’re not my _pimp_.”

Dave gaped in utter shock. “You _like_ her,” he realized.

Klaus rolled his eyes, let go of him and laid back on the bed. Dave lied down beside him, and they looked at each other in the eyes for a minute, until the blond ghost chuckled, “You really know how to choose them.”

“Well, at least she can give me a kid,” Klaus quipped with a little smile.

“I should have never taken you to that orphanage,” Dave whispered, slightly shaking his head, but fond of that memory nonetheless.

Klaus closed his eyes and replied, “Nah, you should have let me steal that baby...”

“Yeah, this is the very _last_ thing on my long list of regrets.”

Dave waited for a response that never came, as Klaus had apparently fallen asleep, so he kissed his cheek and whispered to his ear, “I’m proud of you.”

Klaus kept seemingly sleeping but his hand caught Dave’s.

“I miss you,” he murmured, “so please change your mind.”

“I miss you too,” sadly replied Dave, “but I won’t. You need to be with your own kind.”

Klaus half-opened his eyes to look at his dead lover, then sulkily turned to the other side of the bed and asked, “Then what’s even the point of seeing ghosts?”

Dave had no answer to that question, so he simply spooned Klaus, soothing him until he really fell asleep. 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here begins the Klaus/Handler!  
> The baby part is from the comics, Klaus comes back with one from Vietnam. Plus, Robert Sheehan's character from Misfits, Nathan, which is very similar to Klaus (immortal and sees his brother's ghost), also has a baby that he's head over heals for.  
> By the by, I didn't explain it in last chapter, but Klaus' starting to get his telekinetic powers from the comics. He's the one who saves the world in it. The Handler doesn't know about any of this, because in this story, the comics' timeline is a future one, not in the Time Commission' archives yet, so Klaus is just some insignificant guy to her, she barely even knows what his powers are...


	7. Chapter 7

**A Pawn with a Face**

\- 130 days left -

 

The Handler was totally minding her own business, throwing pebbles at a pigeon that kept prowling over her sandwich while she read a fantastic book about wars and incest and dragons and people dying dreadfully for no other reason than plot-twist, when Hargreeves Number Six sat beside her and warned her with a soft, firm voice:

“Don’t break his heart.”

The Handler was already containing an eyeroll.

“I must say, I’m getting a bit tired of you Hargreeves siblings coming to me with complaints. Do I even want to know what this is about now?”

That didn’t deter Bennoying Hargreeves.

“Klaus is a nice guy.”

The Handler let out a rude scoff.

“Ha! He’s a pathological liar.”

“No, he’s not. He just likes to tease.”

“While I’m sure your brother is a nice chap underneath his constant madness, Number Six, why are you telling me this? He’s the one who tries to seduce me, I want nothing to do with the man.”

Ben took her wrist and her cherished novel fell flat on the ground.

“Because you indulge him,” Ben accused.

“I’m _not_ indulging that child. It’s not my fault he’s so desperate for attention he can’t take no for an answer.”

“It’s not attention that he craves,” he scolded. “Now either give it to him or better yet don’t, but stick to it, because I’m not cleaning that mess.”

Number Six left on that.

 

*

 

The Handler stormed into Hargreeves Number Four’s room while the lunatic was, clearly, doing something stupid, because he jumped, hastily closed a wooden box and hid it in under the low table he was sitting at. Not caring about any of it, the Handler announced solemnly.

“We need to talk.”

Klaus dramatically put his hand over his heart and replied with mock alarm.

“But I didn’t do anything.”

The Handler ignored the idiot who now smirked.

“This thing, you and I?” she asked, pointing at both of them, “Never gonna happen. Never. Not once in the history of all that ever was, did this ever happen.”

Klaus had listened to her so attentively, _so_ _seriously_ , that the Handler was utterly taken aback when he grinned, “Isn’t that _exciting_?”

The Handler felt a wave of rage and frustration overwhelm her, while Hargreeves Number Complete-Fool kept wondering, as if he just had an amazing revelation, “Seriously, I mean, maybe we’re the ultimate solution to the Apocalypse...”

The Handler’s patience had long reached its limit. She would not have this man destroy her peace by pestering her for five months. She was a powerful woman. If she wasn’t stuck as a mere human, she would have already killed him. So, she was not having another Hargreeves, and certainly not this one, mess with her to make her join them, a second longer.

“ _The Apocalypse is always going to happen!_ ” she snapped. “And there is no way in the _multiverse_ that we could ever happen, because _I don’t want to._ ”

Klaus froze for a second, then burst out laughing. At _her_. Furious, the Handler was about to leave, when he tempered, as if _she_ was the ridiculous child.

“Alright, alright, calm down,” he smiled, “No need to throw a tantrum over a little teasing, you know. I mean you’re a babe and all, but I’m not up for it if you’re not. I’m all for consent! So let’s forget about that. Can I interest you in a game of chess? It’s hard to keep my mind occupied now that I’m clean.”

The Handler looked at him dubiously a minute, hesitating. She had to admit she was also very bored. And he now seemed to seek mere friendliness. Finally, she reluctantly sat down in front of him. Klaus opened up his drawer, took out a wooden chess board and went to look for its pieces. The Handler noticed his slightly trembling hands.

“Are you even really clean?” she questioned, highly doubting the fact.

“Well I’m off the hard stuff, but a little weed once in a while never hurt anyone,” he hummed.

Klaus seemed lost in his thoughts as he started putting the pieces on the board. All of the black ones were in place on her side of the game, and just as he had finished putting all the white pawns on his side, he started pulling out weird pieces.

“What is that?” the Handler asked.

She was pointing at the little piece of wood that Klaus had probably painted and carved into a white violin himself. Klaus raised his terrifyingly mischievous green eyes at her.

“Well that’s Vanya, of course,” he smirked, “She’s the King, obviously. Five,” he designated a tiny marshmallow “is the Queen, that’s the only time he’s allowed to steal my title, mind you.” He added a miniature cymbal-banging monkey toy and pinned scalpel blade to its symmetric position, explaining: “Diego and Luther are Knights, as they are in real life.” He then put in a violet Polly Pocket doll and a little octopus he had made out of a champagne cap. “Allison and Ben are Rooks, because they’re oh, _so_ _straight!_ And I,” Klaus looked about to devour her alive while he placed two diamond-shaped ecstasies on the board, “am both Bishops. Maybe one day you’ll preach by my side.”

“Not happening,” the Handler scoffed.

“You say that a lot,” observed Klaus.

“Because it’s true,” she admonished.

“You don’t know everything. I bet you can’t predict the end of this game.”

“I certainly can. You will lose.”

“We’ll see,” Klaus murmured, looking at her lips, “Hey, would you lend me your lipstick?”

“I am _not_ sharing my lipstick with you, Klaus.”

As she considered leaving on the spot, her response drew a candid laugh out of Klaus. He took a few seconds to calm down before correcting her.

“I meant for the game,” he said, pointing at the chess board.

“Oh,” breathed the Handler.

She hesitated again, not trusting where this was going, but decided to indulge the fool nonetheless and took her lipstick out of her purse. Klaus’ fingers softly grazed hers, yet they didn’t linger. The Handler gritted her teeth. She couldn’t tell if he was still trying to seduce her or not, and either possibility deeply annoyed her.

“So you want to be a Queen too?” Klaus murmured absentmindedly as he was thoroughly checking every piece of the game.

“Well certainly not one of your kind,” the Handler grumbled.

Klaus looked up, stunned, and guffawed again. The Handler realized with an ounce of mortifying shame that he was, once more, talking about the game. And worst yet, she couldn’t blame anyone but herself while she watched Klaus hide his face in his hands, his shoulders quivering as he failed to contain his hysterical laughter. He got out of it by smacking the low table.

“Why, Handler, you’re sassy as hell, I _like_ it!”

“Are you still trying to seduce me again?” she accused, narrowing her eyes at him.

“No, I’m trying to play chess,” corrected Klaus, “but _you_ keep bringing up another kind of game.”

The Handler fell silent under his honest-to-god stare.

“So do you want to be the Queen?”

“Does it change anything?” she grumpily replied.

“Well, no,” Klaus admitted, “but it’s a lot harder to kill a pawn with a face.”

The Handler was suspecting he was trying to make a point out of it all. She simply took away the Queen so Klaus could replace it with her lipstick. Suddenly, he jumped.

“Oh! I almost forgot!”

Klaus got up and went to find a bunch of stickers. He then fixed a blue and a pink one on each of her knights.

“Hazel and Cha-Cha, hello my darlings,” he purred.

“You know of them?” asked the Handler, incredulous but hiding it quite well.

“Oh yeah,” he confirmed, “we had a _scandalous_ threesome in a hotel room once. I got those two mo-fos high as a freaking satellite.”

They started to play.

“Is everything you say a lie?” she asked, frankly annoyed.

She took his first pawn.

“Just because you don’t believe in something doesn’t make it a lie, Handler.”

“Oh, not this God nonsense again,” she moaned.

“And what’s a Bishop to do.”

Klaus took her first pawn, but the Handler took his knight right after.

“Your moves simply make no sense,” she commented, “Do you even know what you’re doing?”

“I know the basics,” he replied lightly.

“Well it’s gonna be very easy for me to defeat you.”

“Don’t criticize my moves, Handler, it’s rude. Mind if I up the pace?”

“If it helps this idiotic game come to end more quickly,” agreed the Handler.

They started playing very quickly. It became quite difficult for the Handler to stay focused on her own strategy while he surrounded her with Klaus’ unpredictable randomness. She started to realize that this was his tactic all along. And he was a liar, alright. He didn’t _only_ know the basics. He knew of rules she would accuse him of making up if she didn’t know them to be real. She sincerely didn’t see it coming when he began to slightly take the upper hand, but in a matter of six moves, it was over.

“Checkmate,” Klaus declared simply and got up to open the window.

“What?” squeaked the Handler, dumbfounded.

“Hey, what do you want for dinner?” he asked as he lit a cigarette.

“ _What?_ ” the Handler repeated, still staring at the board game in absolute shock.

“I was thinking Indian. You like spicy food?”

“ _Hell_ no!” she got up furiously.

“Oh… that’s okay, I know this Italian restaurant, it’s like, just across the street-”

“Not that, you crazy lunatic! The game!”

Klaus seemed sincerely taken aback by her reaction. Then he made a dismissive wave with his hand.

“Ah! Yeah, well, you lost. It happens.”

“No, it doesn’t!” she retorted. “It doesn’t happen, it’s _not_ _happening!”_

“Yeah, you _keep_ saying that,” he smirked, a little mocking.

The Handler stopped a second. Klaus was blowing his cigarette smoke out the window.

“Don’t you _dare_ believe this has _any_ kind of meaning on the Apocalypse, or worse yet, on you and I!”

Klaus was not at all intimidated by her outburst.

“Is that the order of your beliefs?” he teased, “Ha! You _actually_ think we’re more likely to stop the Apocalypse than for _you and I_ to happen? I don’t even know whether I’m hurt or relieved.”

“Why _the hell_ would you be relieved, you absolute madman?!”

Klaus threw his barely lit cigarette out the window, then took her by surprise when suddenly he reached for a lower back, brought her closer to him, and stole a quick kiss from her scarlet lips. The Handler had no time to register what had just happened when he answered her question:

“Because, you and I: it’s already happening, baby.”

The Handler meant to slap the infuriating smirk right off his face. The slap did happen, loud and clear. But as Klaus’ beaming stayed intact, the Handler had no resort but to leave.

“This is never happening again!” she roared, slamming his door.

“Yeah, you keep saying that!” he laughed.

 

*

 

Allison entered the room The Handler just stormed off and noticed the red smear on her brother’s lips.

“Klaus, did you just _kiss_ the Handler?”

“Yup,” he chuckled.

“ _Why?_ ” whispered Allison.

“Better the devil you know than the devil you don’t.”

 

Note To Self: _Send Klaus to sexual harassment seminar after this._

 


	8. Chapter 8

**A Pawn with a Name**

\- 130 days left -

 

Five was grumpily munching the peanut butter and marshmallow sandwich that Vanya made him as an apology for “accidentally” making all of his favorite liquor bottles explode, when the Handler snatched it from his hand and threw it out the window.

“I hate your brother,” she complained, visibly pissed off.

Five considered jumping to collect his precious sandwich, but by the time the idea came to his mind, the three-second rule was probably over, so instead, he jadedly asked, “Which one?”

“The _crazy_ one.”

“We recently had this conversation, Handler,” he groaned, “You know it’s not going anywhere. Now, either give me a name or a number.”

“Four!” she exclaimed, “Well, all of them, really. But this one, he’s a nuisance!”

“ _You_ have a problem with _Klaus_?” clarified Five, finding that difficult to believe.

“He’s a pain in my ass!” growled the Handler.

“ _Urgh_ , I never asked for that kind of details,” moaned Five, a bit nauseous.

“Not literally, you _moron_ ,” she snarled, “He _kissed_ me! And he wants to _impregnate_ me too!”

“Damn, Handler, once again, T.M. _freaking_ _I_. _!_ ” Five snapped, looking about to hurl, “Have weird kinky sex with my _teenage_ _brother_ if you must, hell, throw in some alien tech! But don’t tell me about it afterwards, it’s common _decency_.”

The Handler grabbed his arm and glared at him dead the eyes. Hers screamed bloody murder and even though she was an powerless human, that devil’s face was intimidating as hell.

“You’re not listening to me. You brother has been sexually _harassing_ me since the very first day. It was cute at first but now I’m annoyed and I’m not enduring another minute of it. Now make it stop!”

“What do you want _me_ to do?”

“I don’t know! Kill him!”

“I am not _killing_ Klaus!” Five shouted, bewildered.

“Then do _something!_ ” she commanded in a shriek.

“Well, I’m not the Handler, here, _you_ are! _Handle_ it!”

The Handler let go of Five who took a step back from her.

“Oh, I already tried handling your brother,” grumbled the Handler, “We’re way past handling!”

“God, this conversation is making me sick,” whined Five, turning a bit green again. “Why the hell do you even _care_? You’re the queen of sexual harassment! I’ve seen you at work. It’s only karma you’ve finally met your match. Plus, it’s _Klaus_. He’s just teasing, we’re not allowed to hurt you, and the pact includes – ”

“It’s not about the touching,” the Handler interrupted, “it’s about the _constant_ talking.”

“Yeah, I’m sorry to be the one who tell you this, Handler,” Five sniggered, “but there’s nothing in the universe that can save us from Klaus’ chattiness. I already checked and gave up on that _actual_ lost cause a long time ago.”

Even more infuriated now that Five had insinuated fighting the Apocalypse _wasn’t_ a lost cause, the Handler sent him one last murdering look, and stormed out.

 

*

 

\- 125 days left -

 

The Handler was enjoying some alone time, catching up on her reading of Hitler’s biography, which contained a lot of truth but many little white lies, when a whisper behind her ear startled her.

“Am I forgiven yet?”

She turned around and immediately scowled. It was Hargreeves Number Fuck. She had succeeded in avoiding him for nearly a week now, but her current five-year plan was to keep it that way, so she went back to reading her book. “No. Go away.”

That didn’t deter Klaus who insisted, “Oh, come _on_ , it’s not like I gave you an _actual_ devil’s kiss.”

“Do I want to know?” she sighed, exasperated already.

“You probably don’t,” Klaus sniggered. “Or maybe you do! If I tell you, will you forgive me?”

The Handler closed her book in a sharp clap and turned to see that the crazy man was not about to go. In fact, he was kneeling and leaning on the bench’s backrest, staring at her curiously. The Handler asked him, internally fuming, “Why, _why_ do you keep harassing me?”

“I’m very bored,” Klaus admitted, cocking his head to the side, “But also, I think you’re _interesting_.”

“Well consider me flattered, Number Four, but I don’t reciprocate your interest.”

“Don’t call me Number Four,” he frowned quietly, daft smile long gone.

“And why not?” scoffed The Handler.

“Because _fuck you_ , that’s why,” Klaus snapped, then asked cheerily, “By the way, what is your true name?”

This man was the text-book psychiatric example of a _lunatic_ , she thought.

“You know my name,” she reminded, “I’m The Handler.”

“That is a title, not a name,” replied Klaus. “Do you want me to give you one?”

“I really don’t,” scorned The Handler.

“Or we could ask Grace, she’s good at that. She gave me mine. It took some time to get used to it, but at least I don’t feel like I’m just another number anymore.”

The Handler listened to him and stayed silent. Klaus’ green eyes met hers as he kindly added, “You’ve got five years left as a normal person, you know. You’re gonna need one eventually.”

“I suppose this is true,” the Handler reluctantly admitted.

“Good girl,” praised Klaus earning himself a glare, “do you want something that sounds like The Handler, like Hannah or Andy? I like both of those names. Dated an Andy once, a bit bossy and clingy but she gave the most _fantastic_ bl–” he stopped when he caught her murdering look, “Never mind.”

“If you don’t mind,” she said before he could ramble again, “I think I’d rather have Grace name me.”

Klaus nodded and got up.

“I’ll go fetch her.”

“Wait,” The Handler caught his sleeve as he was leaving, “I’ll go with you.”

Klaus beamed at her with that dreamy, dazzling grin of his.

 

*

 

Grace proudly proclaimed her Scarlet. This was the name of her favorite lipstick brand, so the Handler accepted politely. She was somewhat reluctant about it, though.

An hour later, Klaus had yet to make any comment about it. The Handler found that deeply suspicious, so she glared at him while he was carefully building a castle out of cigarettes.

“You’re not going to tease me about it?”

Klaus looked up at her, and the castle started to wobble a little.

“About what?”

“About _my name_ ,” she answered pointedly.

“Oh, I don’t care about that,” he replied, and went back to his tobacco project.

The Handler knew better than to show how much she was fuming inside, but this man was _impossible_. He was the one who pestered her into getting a name, and now he didn’t _care_ about it?

“Besides,” Klaus added, deeply focused on his work, “I’m already calling you _baby_.”

That destroyed the little tolerance the Handler had left for that incurable idiot. She could hear him chuckle as she stormed out. Her only consolation was his cry when the castle collapsed. She would never use that stupid name anyway. It was _his_ idea, of course it was ridiculous, how could she ever expect anything else from such an imbecile? Wearing a name was _ludicrous_. The Handler stopped on her tracks as a thought came to her. She turned around and informed Klaus, “I might forgive you if you tell me one thing.”

He looked more excited than a kid who just saw Santa.

“Really?” he squealed, "Sure, ask me anything!”

“What is Five’s other name?”

Klaus paused, freezing silent for a few seconds.

“I literally don’t know,” he breathed, astonished himself at the fact.

“You’re useless!” groaned the Handler, leaving again.

“Babe, wait!” he exclaimed as he got up to ran after her, “It’s not my fault nobody tells me anything! I’d tell you if I knew, I swear!”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please leave reviews <3 I'd really like to know what you think :)


	9. Chapter 9

**A Pawn with a Ghost**

\- 101 days left -

 

“It surprises me how completely unafraid you are of me,” remarked the Handler, absentmindedly browsing through her magazine.

She was sitting on the living room’s couch, her crossed ankles lying on the same coffee table Klaus, sitting on the floor, was presently painting his toenails on.

“I’m not scared of the living,” he answered.

The Handler put away her magazine -it was rubbish anyway- and looked at the young man trying to swipe a drop of black polish off his skin.

“Whatever do you mean?” she asked, intrigued.

“It means I’m currently surrounded by dead people who think I want to hear about their agony, and their screams are worse than actual torture and death combined.”

Klaus had said that in a soft light tone, proudly contemplating his work on his feet before continuing on his hands. By that point, the Handler knew of his power to see the dead, of course, but she never really thought about the consequences of it. She was under the impression that he’d only see the ghosts he invoked, but now she started to wonder if Klaus talked so much to cover up the voices. She looked around her, it really seemed like they were the only ones in the area.

“Are there dead people around me?”

Klaus sent a quick look her way.

“Not that much. I guess you really did keep your hands clean most of the time.”

“So, ghosts just follow their killer around?”

“I don’t know what they do when I’m not around,” Klaus replied carelessly, “I just know they tend to appear near people, places or things that matter to them.”

Interesting, the Handler thought. That might be how he sometimes knew when she lied before. She suddenly felt fascinated by it all.

“Do you still go to the cemetery?”

“You couldn’t pay me enough,” he chuckled, “It’s so noisy, can’t hear myself think. I stay away from hospitals, too.”

“Do you have ghosts of your own?”

Klaus raised his face toward her.

“What’s with all the questions?”

“Do you mind?”

“Nah, I’m just surprised, that’s all,” replied Klaus, with an honest-to-god expression.

“Are you complaining that I, for once, want to start a conversation with you?”

The Handler’s tone was annoyed and it made the ghost-whisperer smirk.

“Well I’m not complaining as much as wondering why.”

“Curiosity,” she shrugged.

“Did it finally kill the cat?” he teased, wiggling his eyebrows.

The Handler crossed her arms, and retorted:

“You’re going to great lengths to avoid my initial question, Klaus, so I’m guessing its answer is yes.”

Klaus’ enthusiasm vanished after her piercing reply. He looked behind his shoulder.

“Yeah, Dave is here.”

As he fell silent, the Handler pressed on:

“Who is Dave?”

Klaus didn’t answer for so long, the Handler started to think he’d just chosen to just ignore her question.

“Dave is,” he started, before correcting himself, “Dave _was_ the love of my life.”

For some reason, the Handler’s breath was taken away from her.

“Doesn’t he mind you constantly hitting on me?”

Klaus laughed at that and looked behind his shoulder again.

“He says you’re hitting on me too.”

“I’m not,” she scowled, “and it’s a little disturbing that your dead lover watches you trying to get into other people’s pants.”

“Well it was his idea,” he snapped, annoyed.

Hell, the Handler thought, he had been playing her like a toy for some sick, disgusting game with his dead lover. If she didn’t feel so damn insulted, she’d be fucking impressed.

“Getting over him, I mean,” clarified Klaus, “not hitting on you.”

“How is that ever going to work if he’s always in the room?” mocked the Handler.

Klaus’ jaw clenched as he sent her a cold glare.

“We’re working on it, ok?” he said slowly, gritting his teeth.

The Handler was about to tease him about it, just for the sake of torturing him the way he did her, but Klaus turned around and started talking to thin air.

“Oh, now it’s _my_ fault?” he sneered, “I can’t control it and you know it. _You_ do it! _You_ disappear. Sure, you can! I’ve seen you do it, you just have to _want_ to. Well, same goes for me! You think it’s easy to be dumped by someone who doesn’t go away? Yeah, yeah, my own good alright, hey Dave, you know what you could do for my own good? Shut up, and go back to your wife!”

Taken aback by the scene that just happened before her eyes (she could have sworn she saw a guy at some point), The Handler watched Klaus turning back to his nail polish with trembling hands. Taking pity on him already struggling with the screw cap, she got off the couch, joined him on the feet of the coffee table, and she started painting his nails herself.

“So, you were quite the home breaker, then?” she commented, “Not that I’m judging. Been there, done that.”

“Delilah died before we met,” he sulkily answered, “Besides, we’re friends, she visits sometimes. It’s okay. You can share a love that knows no limits.”

“You are quite the unusual individual, Klaus Hargreeves.”

“Why, thank you, baby,” he replied, back to his cheerful, flirty self.

The Handler rolled her eyes and sighed, but kept painting his nails nonetheless.

 

*

\- 82 days left -

 

A couple of weeks went by, during which The Handler realized that indulging Klaus Hargreeves silenced him more than ignoring him, so she did a lot of that. When she’d agreed to Five’s pact, all she ever really wanted was a hassle-free vacation. And maybe do a little hassling herself. It’s such a delight when Five got flustered and outraged. But the Handler never expected to be on the receiving end of it, especially since she always made a point in never telling anything about herself that could ever be used against her. Number Four and her, they had quite the same tactic in life. Over-sharing disturbing yet useless random details to distract, rile or tease the people around them. The more you exposed yourself, the fewer questions people asked.

Ever since the discussion about ghosts, the Handler found comfort in the fact that she now knew something real about Klaus when he didn’t know anything about her. She could use the Dave card at any time. She wasn’t sparing him, no, _no_. She simply waited for the perfect time to slaughter him with that deadly spade. Klaus would be wrecked, and he would have _nothing_ to throw back at her. Nothing that could hurt her anyway.

The prospect of that glorious moment gave her strength when Klaus kissed her cheek before stealing a bite of her morning snack.

“Your mother says hi,” he said.

“I’m sorry, what now?”

“Well I think she does, I don’t really speak Yiddish.”

Before she could reply to that, Klaus held up a finger so she’d wait while he looked intently at something in the air and told it, “You can keep talking all you want, Fruma, I still won’t understand.”

The Handler felt the blood draining from her face the instant he pronounced her mother’s name.

“No, I already told you I’m _not interested_ ,” Klaus rolled his eyes at her invisible mother’s ghost, before turning to the Handler, “I think your mother is trying to convert me or something.”

The Handler suddenly got up and declared in a cold, severe tone: “באַקומען די גענעם אַוועק מוטער"

Klaus looked at her with utter shock on his face. “Don’t talk to her like that, she’s _crying_ now,” he blamed her. “And now she left,” he groaned, disgruntled.

“Mind your own business, Klaus,” the Handler warned.

“Well it’s kind of my business,” he retorted, “it’s _me_ she’s gonna complain to afterwards. I’m never gonna hear the end of it.”

“That’s what you get for pestering me!” the Handler barked.

“Will you calm down already?!” he snapped in a high-pitched voice, “She’s _your_ mother, not mine. I just wanted to tell you she was there. She seemed nice, how could I know you’d get so worked up about it?”

“That woman is not nice,” growled the Handler, “She is a weak, _despicable_ woman who sold me to the Commission when I was a child!”

Klaus paused, bewildered by this unexpected confession.

“I know the feeling,” he finally murmured as he took a step toward her.

“You had a family,” she recoiled, “It’s not the same.”

“I think it’s exactly the same.”

Somehow, his eyes told her the rest of that story. This was the Umbrella Academy, not _family_. They weren’t siblings, they were soldiers in arms, trained to obey and risk their life for a purpose that was never explained to them. The man who raised them was no father, he was a scientist who treated them as lab rats. Especially Klaus, who’d been his favorite experiment subject, to the point where the poor bastard now found torture a little endearing.

“Where is that father of yours?”

“I could tell you, but I’d have to kill you,” Klaus joked as he took the seat next to her at the kitchen table.

“Does he haunt you?” asked the Handler, still trying to figure out if Sir Hargreeves was dead.

“Ha!” he scoffed at that absurd idea, “Like he’d care enough!” 

Klaus meant to reach for the coffee pot, but the Handler unconsciously stopped him by taking his hand in hers. It meant nothing, really. She simply didn’t want this silly man to wear her out with some extra caffeinated energy. This was pure survival instinct. Klaus accepted the event with a daft smile on his stupid, stupid lips, while she waited for any coffee-related thought to desert his crazy, crazy mind. This fucker had ridiculously gorgeous eyes. The Handler still held his gaze as she felt him softly caressing her palm with his thumb. This was getting out of hand. Now, she was stuck. Letting him drink coffee would only make it worse. His eyes moved to her lips. Klaus was about to kiss her, or worse yet, _talk_ again, and the Handler really didn’t want that to happen, so she kissed him first.

The rest happened and she never meant it to. It’s really not like Klaus threw himself at her or even rushed. He simply pulled her closer with a delicate hand on her neck and another, firmer, on her lower back. Klaus was, she had to admit, an excellent kisser.

The Handler could allow herself a little summer fling. It means nothing if it’s just once. She would soon leave the place anyway, the Handler told herself, as she subtly scratched Klaus’ neck with her nails. This elicited a strong reaction on his part, because he shuddered and bit her lower lip. Never breaking the kiss, Klaus suddenly held the Handler up with his hands under her thighs and how in god’s name was that even possible? He was very tall but in no way built enough to carry her so easily, the Handler thought. But soon enough he had laid her down on the kitchen’s table and she could feel his mischievous smile on her skin as nipped her neck. Klaus then proceeded to unwrap her like a Christmas present and The Handler enjoyed every bit of it as she did the very same to him.

“Oh, _hell_ _no!_ ”

The shout made the both of them look up. The Handler felt like _killing_ the man who had dared to interrupt the moment she had meant to never happen but would now really like to keep happening. Unfortunately for her, whoever it was, she already knew she couldn’t, because of a damned pact she had stupidly agreed to.

It was Five, white as a sheet and clearly very upset.

“This,” he pointed around the kitchen, “is a _public_ space. _You_ ,” he pointed at both of them, “are _not alone_ in this house. And _I_ ,” he pointed at himself, “ _don’t want live in constant fear of jumping into you two!_ ”

Klaus offered him his snarkiest lopsided grin.

“Jumping into?” he teased.

“You know what I mean! This better never happen again!” Five barked as he disappeared.

“He’s starting to sound like you,” snickered Klaus.

The Handler had to kiss him to shut him up. It was very effective.

So yeah, it happened alright.

 

*

 

Later, as he put his pants back on with that slightly dazzled expression of his, Klaus asked her, “Do you feel any different?”

The Handler scoffed while she buttoned up her dress.

“You’re certainly a very decent lay, Klaus, but don’t flatter yourself.”

He laughed, then explained his thought, “No, I mean, do you think you might be pregnant yet?”

The Handler got up so quickly she almost fell off the table. She couldn’t _believe_ that crazy man.

“What happened in your life that made you so insane?” she asked, angrier than concerned.

Klaus crossed his hands over his heart and batted his eyes like this was his fondest memory.

“My _daddy dearest_ ,” he sighed. “Why?”

“I want to know who to get killed as soon as I get back,” muttered the Handler.

“My, baby, that’s actually kind of sweet,” he kissed her cheek, “but wouldn’t that change the course of history?”

He had a point. The Handler couldn’t kill Sir Reginald Hargreeves. Or could she? Surely, she could. She’d find another way to keep the Apocalypse on the right track. That could happen. If it stopped this madness from actually happening, it was worth it.

“No, the Apocalypse would still happen.”

“Maybe, but I wouldn’t be _me_ anymore,” pointed out Klaus.

The Handler looked pointedly at him.

“That’s the _point_ ,” she explained to that dense, barmy man.

Klaus looked at her indignantly, but couldn't contain his chuckle when he teased, “Hey now, don’t be mean to your _baby daddy!_ ”

“I’m not pregnant, Klaus,” the Handler scolded, irritated.

“It’s okay, don’t worry. Give me a minute, we can try again. It’ll happen.”

The Handler stopped him from undressing again, and declared seriously, “Oh, that is _never_ happening.”

“But it just happened,” Klaus said, just as confused as confusing.

“No, it _didn’t_.”

“Sure, it did! We just did it, didn’t we?”

“Klaus, before I start losing my temper again over your madness, let me be _crystal_ clear: you and I? Not happening.”

“But it already happened,” he replied slowly as if _she_ was the slow one.

That’s what she got for indulging a lunatic. The Handler took in a big, long breath so could very calmly, very _clearly_ explain the situation to Klaus. 

“No, Klaus, we had sex, _once_. It is _never_ happening again, because _you and I_ : it’s _not happening_.”

“Yeah, you keep saying that,” he smirked, “but it always happens anyway.”

The Handler was livid. She thought of slapping him again, but she knew it would serve no purpose, and he would probably get off on it.

“This is never happening again!” she barked before storming out.

“Babe, don’t get mad,” he consoled as he ran after her, “you know it’s no good for the baby!”

The Handler seriously considered pushing him down the stairs and the only thing that stopped her was thinking on how to make it look like an accident. 

 


	10. Chapter 10

**The Four of Babylon**

\- 70 days left -

 

The Handler’s wish for Klaus’ demise nearly came true. A few weeks later, he got hurt. Gravely. She knew that because one evening she heard them coming back from a mission, screaming around, calling for Grace and Pogo, and by the time she’d rushed to know what happened, they were already in the emergency room, and then all the siblings came out but Klaus. Number Two glared at her and she cordially reciprocated the hatred gesture, then he left like he couldn’t stand the sight of her, which was pretty standard behavior from the guy. The two couples were holding tightly their other half, not really a scandalous sight either, but Vanya was in shock, shaking in Five’s arms, while blood-covered Ben furiously wiped his eyes with his fists. Quite alarmed now, the Handler meant to look through the room’s window, but Ben got in her way.

“You shouldn’t look,” he whispered.

That’s about when the Handler’s heart stopped.

“Why?” she asked.

The pity and pain in Number Six’s eyes froze her insides like a bath in liquid nitrogen. She tried to go past him, but he grabbed firmly her shoulders and told her, “Handler, _trust me_ , you don’t want to see what’s inside.”

The Handler strove to catch a peek once more, but Ben was too strong, so she angrily pushed him away and strode back to her room instead.

 

*

 

The next day, the Handler was quietly pacing in circles in the attic, where no one could hear, find or bother her, when she heard the trap open to reveal Number Seven.

“Are you here to make me feel guilty?” snapped the Handler. “Because that won’t make me join. Nothing will.”

Vanya was smiling when she replied, “No, actually, I’m here to tell you he survived. He just woke up.”

That got the Handler to stop her pacing.

“He survived?” she repeated, incredulous.

“Yup,” confirmed Vanya, “apparently God still won’t let him die.”

Not even going into the whole “stop making up holy entities you ridiculous apes”, the Handler simply asked, “He committed _suicide_?”

“No, no, he’s just very stupid,” chuckled Vanya.

“What the hell did he do now?”

 

*

 

It took the Handler three more days to visit Klaus after he woke up. Number Seven told her what a reckless, self-sacrificing dumbass he’d been, she was pissed. He played with his life as randomly as he did chess, but thankfully for the Handler, the Apocalypse was not a game, and even if it was, it would still _happen_. She didn’t even consider any of them as competition. Not even Five, who couldn’t mess with the timeline enough to ever stop the Apocalypse, even though it was annoying. But the way Klaus had acted on the field was _revolting_ , no matter which side he was on. This man should have died. Hell, he deserved to die. And it would happen, for sure, the blessed day of Apocalypse.

That’s what gave her strength to finally open the door that led to his room. She took a peek, he was on his bed, jumping a little, as if he was being attacked by angry bees. The parts of his body that didn’t wear clothes were covered with bandages, except his neck and head. Vanya had said one of her men, Jack, had put a barrel in his mouth and shot him in the head, but surely the guy must have aimed at his cheek, because there was no technology on this planet that could have made him survive that blow without a scar. After watching him for a minute, she entered the room. Klaus saw her and gave him a tired, tender smile.

“Oh, I thought you’d never come.”

He had dark circles under his eyes. The Handler came to sit by his feet on the bed. She didn’t know what to say, so she said the truth.

“You’re an idiot.”

“I won’t deny it,” Klaus smirked, “but what brought you to this conclusion?”

“They told me what happened.”

“I see, so you’re here to give me yet another _suicidal is not brave_ lecture?”

“No, I want to give you a _you’re an idiot_ lecture. You’re very stupid you know.”

“So you keep telling me,” he sighed.

“The way to a woman’s heart is not the one which leads to your deceased ex.”

The Handler regretted that comeback instantly. But because life was sometimes very fair, Klaus’ laugh was quickly interrupted by the pain of it.

“You think I tried to reunite with Dave?” he mocked.

“Well it’s none of my business, really,” she replied, a little sullen.

Klaus took the Handler’s hand and dropped a delicate kiss on it, his piercing eyes never leaving her stunned face.

“Isn’t it?” he smirked, “Because you sound a little jealous.”

The Handler broke eye contact on the spot. Flustered, she snatched her hand back from him. It somehow amused him even more.

“What you do with the rest of your life matters little to me, Klaus,” she sneered, “You’ll soon die in the Apocalypse anyway.”

“Unless you join us,” he supplied.

“Even if you were the love of my life, Klaus, and rest assured, you’re not, I would not join you.”

“You say that because you’ve never loved anyone more than yourself yet.”

“And how would you know?” the Handler retorted, condescending.

Klaus’ confidence disappeared instantly. “Did you? Who was it?”

Not wanting to answer any of those questions, the Handler taunted, “Now you’re the one who sounds a little jealous to me.”

It was very disappointing to the Handler how completely unashamed Klaus was by it. His sly smile only grew and his answer was silk.

“Quite right too.”

“You can stop your charade, Klaus, I’ve long understood that you’re only trying and _failing_ to seduce me in the interest of stopping the Apocalypse.”

“Now where in the world did you get that ridiculous idea?”

Klaus seemed sincerely offended by her statement. His smirk was gone and his eyes cold.

“You know,” he sighed, clearly disappointed in her, “for someone who calls me a liar, you sure spend a lot of time and energy lying to yourself.”

“Have I actually offended you over nothing right now?”

The Handler had spent so much time and plotting on doing it on purpose, she couldn’t believe it finally happened and it was an accident. This man was incredibly mental.

“Oh, why, no, _Handler_ ,” he snarled viciously, “I believe you _just_ called me a whore. An Apocalypse-ending whore, but a whore nonetheless. You act all mighty like you know everything, but let me tell you something that is true and will never change in _any_ version of anything that ever was: I only do what I want, I only say what I want and I only have sex with who I want. So, _please_ , handle your way to the Apocalypse. I honestly don’t care. But you will _not_ deprive me of my own free will. That is _no one_ ’s privilege, not the army’s, not the old man’s, not Dave’s, not freaking God’s, and certainly not _yours._ ”

“I honestly don’t know why you’re so upset,” replied the Handler, a little baffled.

“Well maybe if you weren’t such a Satan’s pawn you’d understand.”

“Klaus,” The Handler scolded, annoyed, “I’d like to apologize, and I don’t even know why, so will you just tell me how so we can get over it?”

He jumped a little as if some invisible thing just assaulted him from his left, then looked at her, dead serious, without the slightest hint of a smile as he asked:

“Can I have a hug?”

“I’m not falling into that trap,” the Handler muttered to herself, getting ready to leave.

“Not for _that_ ,” he retorted, then jerked again and screamed at thin air, “ _I don’t know where she is_ , Archer, just _fuck off_ , will you?!” he looked at her again and grumbled, “There’s this angry dude who’s badgering me about his mother. He’s such a dick about it, too. He keeps startling me, I swear that asshole’s gonna split my stitches.”

He stopped talking when he felt the Handler’s embrace.

“Any comment about this and I’m gone,” she warned before asking, “Doesn’t Dave ward them off?”

“He’s with his wife right now.”

“If it’s an emergency I’m sure she’ll understand.”

“We’re taking a break.”

The Handler’s tried to ignore her heart’s leap.

“How long have you two been apart?”

He flinched again and closed his eyes.

“I don’t know, about a month?”

Ever since their fight in the living room, then. And before they had sex in the kitchen. The Handler didn’t know what to think of that. Her thoughts spiraled until she realized, with the shift of his weight, that Klaus had fallen asleep on top of her. And the sneaky man had entangled their legs in a way that made it impossible for her to get out. She patiently waited for him to shift in his sleep so she could walk away, but before that could ever happen, she fell asleep too.

 


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I felt like adding this chapter in advance because you're all so kind :)  
> It's very long, it was meant to be longer, but the last Number took a whole chapter by itself.  
> I hope you'll like it <3

**_The Seven Deadly Sins and the Four Last Things_ , H. Bosch**

\- 66 days left -

 

**NUMBER 1**

 

Luther was the one who found them. His presence in the room woke the Handler right up, but she still had the considerable weight of Klaus pinning her down onto the bed. Apparently, the blond man could smell ladies’ distress, because he came to delicately lift his brother up so she could get out. The Handler nodded her gratitude to Number One, then tried to flee her own crime scene, but her savior caught her arm with a strength she knew was futile to resist. Luther stayed silent and accompanied her outside the room. Even though he didn’t squeeze her arm enough for it to hurt, the Handler felt a bit of dread over the fact that he still didn’t released her from his grip.

“Please don’t hurt him,” Luther whispered in a low voice.

“Please don’t hurt _me_ ,” The Handler hissed back.

It occurred to her that her reply had a double meaning, because Luther’s eyes softened with sympathy, until she pointed at her arm.

“Sorry,” Luther instantly let go of her, “I didn’t mean to scare you.”

“If any of the Hargreeves scared me, Number One, you’d be the last on that list. It’s a wonder anyone could ever be afraid of you.”

Luther paused, a bit startled, then gave her a hint of a smile.

“Thank you.”

“What is it with you _freaks_ that make you unable to take an insult the right way?” the Handler whispered furiously.

“Oh, I know it’s an insult coming from _you_ ,” Luther corrected, “but I’ve been treated like a beast long enough to take that as a compliment, whomever it’s from.”

“I don’t care about your pathetic life, Number One.”

“You’re very mean,” he stated as if she’d should be ashamed of it. “I have no idea why he likes you so much.”

“Well I don’t know either, but do keep me informed if you ever find out, I want to make sure to change that.”

The Handler never ran away from a conversation faster.

 

**NUMBER 3**

 

A minute later, she met Number Three on her way. The movie star was smirking at her with crossed arms, leaning against the corridor’s wall.

“So you and my brother, huh?” teased Allison.

“I am not talking to you, Number Three,” declared the Handler.

“Why not?”

She walked past Allison, but the woman followed her, so the Handler hastened her pace.

“I’m not having you manipulate my mind. I wish I had that kind of convincing power myself, though.”

It annoyed the Handler greatly that she had meant for dealing with Klaus before she thought of its use for work. She reassured herself with the inner belief that she didn’t need it there, because people actually _listened_ to her.

“I won’t use my power on you while you’re normal, Handler. We can make a pact of it.”

“Not if I’m already gone,” replied the Handler as she closed her bedroom’s door on Allison’s face.

 

**NUMBER 2**

 

The Handler was calming her nerves by reading The Shining. She had browsed many books during her life here, but she had yet to skim this one. She was sincerely eager for every of its character to suffer a gory death. The page she was about to turn suddenly got pinned by a blade. The Handler looked up and met Number Two’s unreadable gaze.

“I hope you know what you’re doing,” he said.

“Why, _yes_ , Number Two. I believe it starts with me _murdering_ you then the rest of your insufferable family.”

The Handler furiously tried to unhook the knife, but it was planted sturdier than the Excalibur.

“You’re not gonna get away with it,” warned Diego.

“Oh, no, Number Two,” she mocked darkly, “ _you_ ’re not going to get away with it.”

Diego blinked at her for a second.

“What the hell are you talking about?” he asked her, confused, as if _she_ made no sense.

“The Apocalypse is going to happen and that's _never_ going to change. Now what the hell are _you_ talking about?”

“I’m talking about _Klaus_ here, crazy lady.”

These people were so insane, the Handler felt on the verge of the biggest fit of her entire life.

“Oh, for _God’s sake_ , you harebrained people are going to be the death of me! This whole thing is pointless. I’m leaving this madhouse this instant.”

The Handler was about to get up when another knife grazed her throat.

“Oh, no, you’re not going anywhere,” Diego told her.

“Yes, I am,” she replied with her most ominous tone, “I am breaking the pact, _today_.”

“You can’t do that,” he replied, with a certainty that she couldn’t wait to destroy.

“Yes, I _can_. I am telling Five that part of the pact is over and I am leaving so I may never suffer _any_ of the never-ending Hargreeves nonsense, anymore.”

“You can’t do that,” a frowning Diego repeated, and it now sounded more like a reproach than a certitude.

“And why the hell not?”

“Because _Klaus_.”

“What about that madman?!”

“You know what!” Diego scolded with rising anger.

“No, I really don’t. I never did, I never will, and quite frankly, I don’t care!”

She was leaving. She was leaving and this was final. She was literally leaving the room, when Diego’s nasty answer reached her ears.

“Because he’s falling in love with you, you evil bitch.”

The Handler stopped on her track and turned around to actually _kill_ that man with her bare hands, but he was already gone. She went back to find Five.

 

**NUMBER 6**

 

She met yet another Hargreeves on her way.

“What are you looking for?” asked Ben.

“Five,” gritted the Handler.

“Oh, he’s not home. Are you okay? You look like you’re about to cry.”

“I’m fine. When is he coming back?”

“I’m not really sure, but Vanya’s here so he’s bound to come back. What do you need?”

“What I need,” she growled, “is for Five to agree to break the pact so I can leave this _mental institution_ you call a home.”

Ben blinked. “What happened?”

“Nothing.”

“You suddenly want to leave over _nothing_?” he asked calmly with a raised eyebrow, like _she_ made no sense.

“Oh, no,” she warned, pointing a threatening finger at him. “No, no, _no_. This is _not_ happening again!”

The worst part was how sincerely confused Ben looked.

“What’s not happening again?”

“Nothing!”

“So, just so we’re clear: you want to leave because nothing’s not happening, again?”

Ben made a face that indicated he’d started doubting her state of mind. The Handler felt the little sanity she had left vanish completely and an overwhelming fury take its place.

“Of course, something happened! Something’s always happening in this madhouse!”

“Listen, Handler,” Ben scolded in a firm authoritarian tone, “you can scream and you can throw a fit, but it’s not gonna help you. Five’s not here so you can’t leave, and that sounds a lot like a _you_ problem to me, but I consider myself a charitable man and I’m willing to help you in the meantime. Now you want to tell me what happened?”

“ _Klaus_ happened,” she snarled.

Ben glared and got closer to her, surrounded by a dark, menacing aura that could only belong to the realms of the supernatural.

“Oh, no,” he cautioned, “I’ve warned you about this before. You don’t get to break Klaus’ heart. He’s been through enough. This is _not_ happening!”

“I’ve had it with you Hargreeves telling me what’s gonna happen. You don’t get to decide what happens!”

“Oh, and _you_ do?!”

She had apparently completely lost her mind, because she answered:

“Yes, because this is _my_ life, _my_ choices, and _my goddamned heart, too!_ ”

Ben took a step back, losing his hostile expression over a surprised one.

“I never wanted anything to do with your brother to begin with,” continued the Handler, “and apparently, not even your pretense of a God can stop him from getting what he wants, but he’s _not_ getting _me._ _It’s not happening!_ ”

“Sounds to me like it already happened,” Ben commented with a little contempt.

“Once!” barked the Handler, “It happened _once_ , and it’s never happening again!”

“No, I mean it already _happened_ ,” Ben repeated, a bit annoyed by her screaming. “You’re leaving because you’re falling in love with him.”

“Don’t you dare,” she growled furiously, “I’m not– I don’t– I will _kill_ you!”

Ben rolled his eyes.

“Yeah, good luck with that,” he mocked.

The Handler pointed a furious index at him.

“I swear to God, Number Six, that there is no way, _no way_ in heaven or hell, that I am falling for that ridiculous excuse for a man. I’m not even _attracted_ to him!”

Ben caught her wrist and his long fingers curled around it like an octopus on its prey.

“You know, Handler, you can stick to your beliefs all you want, it doesn’t change the facts. You’re screaming like a crazy woman in the middle of the day, swearing on a God you don’t believe in, claiming that you’re not attracted to a man you’ve recently slept with, and that you want to run away from in the spirit of the very _free will_ you despise. It’s no one’s fault but your own if you don’t make any sense.”

The Handler broke down. She felt it, too. Her whole soul shattered into a big pile of _nothing_. Her lower lip started to quiver but she knew she wouldn’t cry. She never cried. Part of her always wondered if she was even _able_ to cry. Probably not.

This family actually broke her spirit. Was that Five’s plan all along? No, staying at the Academy was her own idea. At that time, she actually believed it would be a good way to annoy Five into submission. She should have listened to him. Especially when he told her he was the sanest of his family. Did they all mastermind this behind her back? She doubted it. They simply were too insane to reason with. The Handler got tricked by the random chaos that resulted of their existence. Just like the chess game she lost. It happened whether she wanted it or not.

And now, the Handler simply couldn’t handle it anymore.

She would admit defeat and give Five his soul back in exchange for leaving this place. It was the only way. Hell, she’d even give him his soul back and stay powerless for a lifetime if it was anywhere but here.

She didn’t even listen or hear what Number Six told her as she walked away.

 

**NUMBER 5**

 

Two hours later, the Handler finally found Five in his father’s study, his ankles crossed on the desk as he examined some papers. He didn’t even acknowledge her presence in the room when she sat across him.

“Five, I want out,” the Handler said.

“Out of the deal?” he asked, still reading.

“Out of here.”

“Fine by me. Good riddance.”

The Handler couldn’t believe it.

“Is that all?” she asked, dumbfounded.

Five raised his gaze from his file, a little concerned. He took off his glasses as he examined the Handler’s face for a second, then went back to his work.

“Sure,” he replied, “You’re the one who wanted to stay here. We never said you couldn’t leave. Close the door on your way out.”

She did just that.

 

**NUMBER 7**

 

Unfortunately for her, the Handler encountered Vanya right as she closed the door.

“Hey, Handler,” she greeted cheerfully.

The brunette lost her smile when she saw the Handler’s face.

“Are you okay? Is it Five? He’s such a dick sometimes, I’m gonna kick his ass – ”

The Handler caught Vanya’s arm before she could open the study’s door.

“It’s not Five,” she replied.

“Oh,” breathed Vanya in realization, “so you do love Klaus? You know, it’s okay, it happens.”

Yet another thing was never meant to happen, happened.

The Handler’s scowl turned into a sob, with actual real tears and everything she despised in this world. She was not crying of sadness, there was nothing to be sad about. These were tears of pure _exhaustion_. These were tears of _relief_ , not because she was in love with a maniac, no, _no_. These were the tears of someone who finally was released from _torture_.

She would leave, she would leave the second she got a grip of herself. There was no way she would spend her first minutes in the free world in this state, so she would calm down, and she would leave behind every single feeling she ever had, about every single inhabitant of this preposterous place, the second she would step out the door. She would never, ever think about it again, and get back to being the proud, untouchable, unattainable woman she had always been. But even though she hid her face in her hands and took deep, long breaths, the tears kept pouring down her cheeks and she deemed it would never stop, until Vanya pulled her in a soothing embrace that felt like comfort itself.

“You can cry, Handler,” Vanya hummed, “but never over a boy. It’s scientifically proven they’re not worth it.”

The Handler laughed despite herself and hurried to wipe the tears off her face. God, how could she feel so much better in so little time? She suddenly remembered Klaus babbling about Vanya’s hugs being his favorite drug. She suspected it was a part of her power, but couldn’t bring herself to care, so she simply got out of the hug that had reached its purpose and asked Vanya, a bit wary:

“Why are you so nice to me?”

“Well, from what I hear, you and my brother are, indeed, _happening_.”

“How do you always know everything?” frowned the Handler.

“I hear things,” Vanya answered lightly, with a dismissive hand gesture.

“You mean _voices_?”

“Well yes, that too,” chuckled Vanya. “I certainly hear yours when you scream at my siblings.”

Did she hear voices or didn’t she? Everyone in this house was cryptic, insane or both, the Handler reminded herself. Yet she probed anyway:

“What exactly _did_ you hear?”

“Oh, Handler… I hear _everything_.”

The Handler felt a cold wave going through her body. That woman could hear _everything_. She had a witness to her entire humiliation.

“It’s okay,” Vanya reassured her, “Klaus knows the safeword.”

That was absolutely not reassuring to the Handler as she didn’t understand what that meant.

“What safeword?”

“The one people use to have sex,” explained Vanya, “Don’t you know BDSM?”

This woman was annoying her at an alarming rate. Vanya’s smile grew.

“You are purposefully messing with me,” The Handler realized.

“A little bit,” Vanya admitted in a purr, “I thought that’d get your mind off your troubles. Also, confused heartbeats are like music to my ears.”

“You really _do_ hear everything!”

“I really, really do. Hence the safeword for privacy. You want it? I mean personally I don’t mind at this point, but maybe you do.”

“I won’t need it, I’m leaving this madhouse.”

“You’ll need it if you live on this side of the ocean,” snickered Vanya, “Well I hear the other side too, but it’s more of a fly’s buzz.”

“Good grief, Number Seven, your powers know no limits,” groaned The Handler, revolted.

“Yes. Will you join us now?”

“Oh no, _not_ happening,” warned The Handler, “I can’t wait for you to blow up. I don’t even care if you take me with you. I’m currently waiting for the Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse to show up and save me from this Hell.”

“Fuck,” Vanya giggled, “Klaus really did a _number_ on you. I never expected for you to actually join us Four real.”

“What’s the point of hearing everything if you _never listen_? Number Four did _not_ pull a _number_ on me.”

“Oh, yeah,” Vanya teased, feigning innocence, “I think you’re scared of a Four-letter word that might scatter your beliefs to the Four winds.”

This woman was insufferable, and even though she’d plotted to ruin her life for over a century now, the Handler thought she did nothing to deserve this treatment.

“I’ll get a _clue-by-Four_ and knock some sense into all of you with it, that’s Four sure!”

_Oh no_ , the Handler realized with dread, she hadn’t even meant for her last wordplay to happen. This place’s madness was highly contagious, and clearly, she was getting contaminated. Worse yet, Vanya was not the least bit threatened by the her wrath.

“Alright, Handler,” she sniggered mercilessly, “no need to rummage the Four corners of the earth Four him, you know where he is, just go downstairs and kiss the gentleman of the Four outs already.”

The Handler glared at this evil, evil little monster that called itself a woman.

“Oh, that’s so cute! I got you to Four-Oh-Four.”

The Handler was not giving this woman the satisfaction of being right and throw the fit she oh, _so_ craved.

“Will you stop it already?”

“Yes,” nodded Vanya, “but only because I’m out. I make no promise Four the future. Oops, did it again. Now I’m really out. Four now.”

She was purring with delight, and the Handler started to suspect the sound she emitted with her throat was the very reason she could not bring herself to leave yet.

“So what happens when you leave?” asked Vanya.

“I’m not telling you what’s happening.”

“Why not?”

“Because every time I do, the contrary happens, and it’s _seriously_ annoying.”

“I understand your frustration, Handler, but I’m simply asking out of concern for you.”

“You mean concern for your _brother_ ,” she scoffed with disdain.

“Oh, nah. Klaus’ gonna be alright, I’m more worried about you.”

“I beg your _pardon_?”

“I mean he does like you, like, like _like_ you, but he’s not gonna break apart because you leave.”

“Your other siblings don’t seem to agree,” the Handler sulkily told her.

“That’s because they don’t hear _everything_.”

This reply ignited a spark of hope inside the Handler’s mind.

“So, you believe me that I’m not manipulating him,” she tried carefully, “that _he_ ’s the one who’s been toying with me all along?”

One person in this house had to believe her, the Handler prayed.

“I don’t believe either of you are playing the other,” replied Vanya. “You know, I hear everything. Every word, every touch, every breath and every heartbeat.”

“I am not in love with that man,” the Handler told Vanya firmly before she could add anything else.

The Apocalypse-bearer seemed stunned for a minute.

“Of course not,” she said, looking at the Handler as if she was being silly.

Finally, _finally!_ The Handler was ready to _kiss_ that tiny thing of a woman, because one person was finally of sound mind in this house, and this godsent individual finally believed her.

“But it’s gonna happen,” Vanya added with a smirk.

The unpleasant surprise cocktail of fury, disbelief and disappointment that response elicited inside the Handler got her terribly upset again. But this time, the very confused Vanya didn’t hug her and simply took her hand.

“Hey, do you know why we take cookies out of the oven while they’re still a bit liquid?” Vanya asked randomly.

The Handler didn’t bother to answer that question. She was too emotionally exhausted to even try, so Vanya continued:

“That’s because they keep cooking for ten minutes afterwards. Well, everything does, really. That’s why you should put cold on a burn for a few minutes too.”

Vanya looked pointedly at the Handler that still kept silent, then added:

“That’s also why separating Five from me for decades was pointless.”

“What are you trying to tell me here, Number Seven?” asked the Handler at last, yet suspecting she wouldn’t like the answer one bit.

“I’m telling you that you can leave the oven, Handler, but you’ll keep cooking. It’s happening either way.”

 


	12. Chapter 12

**NUMBER 4**

 

The Handler walked out the front door. Twice. Because, for some reason, she kept going back inside less than four steps out. She couldn’t leave like that. She didn’t say goodbye to Klaus, and really, it wasn’t about feelings, it was more that she highly suspected he would turn the world upside down to find her, just to complain about her not saying goodbye. She could see that happening, and it wasn't happening, not on her watch. She wanted everything to be over the second she left the place.

So she went back in to tell him. She hesitated about opening his door a lot longer than the day before when she didn’t know in what state he’d be in after getting shot. Finally, she entered the room. Klaus welcomed her with a smile that instantly disappeared when he noticed her face.

“Who made you cry?” he questioned, “Did someone attack you? I’m gonna kill the guy,” he decided furiously, then turned back to his soft self, “but later. What happened?”

“You.”

The Handler felt her lower lip starting to quiver again. That alarmed Klaus to great lengths.

“ _I_ made you cry?” he gasped, “I never meant to make you cry! Baby, seriously, what happened?”

“ _You_ ,” she accused again.

At that point, the Handler didn’t expect Klaus to understand. She was way past expecting anything from anyone in there, especially him. She wasn’t even sure she wanted him to understand, in fact. He looked completely dumbfounded when he blurted, “Whut?”

The Handler took in a sharp intake of air, then informed him, “I’m leaving. This is goodbye.”

Klaus instantly got up, wincing through the pain, a panicked expression on his face as he said, “That’s not happening.”

The Handler vowed to every god that may ever be that she was never, _ever_ going to say, hear or read that verb in any language that ever was.

“Yes, it is,” she gritted.

“No, it isn’t! Why the hell should you leave?”

“Because _you happened!_ ”

Seriously, fuck that word.

Klaus’ face suddenly turned into a scowl and he started prowling around her like a feral cat.

“What did I _ever_ do to _you_?”

“Oh, you know what you did!” scoffed the Handler.

“No, I really don’t!” he shouted back.

Klaus tried to catch her wrist but she quickly took a step back from him.

“We are not having this conversation,” she declared.

The Handler proceeded to leave the room, but the door loudly slammed shut. She felt her heart speed as she saw and heard the lock closing by an invisible force. She turned around and saw Klaus with a gloomy aura around him.

“Since when can you do that?!” she accused, indignant.

“Since we’re having this conversation,” he snarled, “now answer the question!”

“Listen to me, Number Four,” she said in a calm, threatening voice, “you will let me out of this room this very second because this conversation is _not_ _happening_.”

She actually considered killing herself on the spot. Anything to get away from this.

“This conversation is _already happening_ , you raging, crazy, goddamned evil battleaxe!”

“Klaus,” the Handler warned, “if you even dare to lay a finger on me, the deal is over, I’m back to the Commission and I am erasing you from the face of the earth! I have every right to go, and I don’t owe you anything.”

Klaus let out a sinister snigger and covered his face with his hands as if she was the most exhausting person he had ever met. When he took them off, he leered at her with a wild, masochistic smirk.

“ _Oh,_ but you can leave _whenever_ you want,” he taunted, “but you _do_ owe me an explanation. _You_ come to _me_ , looking _devastated_ , telling me you’re suddenly _leaving_ , _because of_ _me_ , and then refuse to tell me _why_? I never did anything to you, except shower you with affection and maybe tease you a little bit!”

“Well I don’t want your affection nor your teasing, Klaus! I’m simply not attracted to you.”

At least one of these sentences was a lie, the Handler had to admit to herself. 

“Oh, I’m _sorry_ , baby, would you mind telling that to the scars you left on my back? Because they don’t believe you and quite frankly I don’t either.”

“Klaus! You and I, it’s _over_. I’m out. It’s never, _ever_ happening.”

“Oooooh,” he mocked with scorn, “so correct me if I’m wrong: you and I, it’s never happening. Yet it must have happened because now it’s _over_ , and why is it over? No, wait, let me guess! Could it be because it’s _never happening_? Oh, my, I can’t even believe this is happening right now… But it is, right? I mean, you know best about those things.”

“Do you know you’re the most insolent, _insufferable_ scum on earth? And you wonder why I want nothing to do with you!”

“Yes, I’m very much aware of that, thank you,” he snarked back, “though you were aware of that too, since the first day we met, and yet the rest still _happened_.”

“ _Nothing happened!_ ” she screeched.

“Oh, _okay_ , I get it now! You’re leaving because _nothing happened_. That makes _perfect_ sense! My _lord_ , you are one obstinate woman... I think I give up. You’re too crazy, even for me. You’re actually standing right here, denying that it _happened_?”

“It was just sex! So you’d _shut up._ It happened _once_ and it is _never happening again_. Which is why I want to _leave_.”

He took a step back, bewildered.

“So you want to leave because you don’t want to have sex with me again?”

“Yes,” answered the Handler, looking away.

“ _You_ jumped _me_ , yet you’re not attracted to me… Wait a minute. Handler, did you _seriously_ have sex with me _just_ to shut me up?”

“Obviously,” she lied through her teeth.

“Then you really must be unattracted to me,” he breathed incredulously, then made a face, “You know what, that’s also very insulting. Next time, just leave the room like a decent human being.”

“Well I can’t until you open that door,” the Handler muttered furiously.

She pointed out the doorknob, expecting him to release her, but instead he got closer to her until she was trapped against said door. Klaus grilled her with his ardent glare for a minute, then decided, “A few questions first.”

“When is this questioning ever gonna stop?” moaned the Handler.

“When you’ll stop lying, I’m hoping very fucking soon.”

The sarcastic venom in his voice was so natural, that the Handler was willing to bet this sinister, predatory behavior had been Klaus’ true personality all along. One sick son of a bitch who had little to do with the chirpy nitwit bullying her with cuteness for months. And to say he called her the liar…

“I am not lying to you, Klaus.”

“Alright, then if I swear to never touch, or kiss, or flirt with you again, will you stay?”

He took a step back just to prove his point, but the Handler still replied:

“Absolutely not.”

“Why?”

“Again, I don’t owe you an explanation.”

“Again, I don’t give a fuck,” he retorted. “Quick recap: I _happened_ to make you leave, yet according to you _nothing happened_ , now I’m vowing never to try to seduce you so _you and I will never happen_ , but also you’re _not_ attracted to me so that was _never gonna happen_ anyway, then tell me, why can’t you stand the sight of me?”

“Because I _hate_ you, Klaus,” snapped the Handler, “that is _precisely_ why.”

That answer seemed to delight the masochist who chuckled and replied quietly, “Okay, baby, for the sake of your own mind, I’m gonna let you in a little secret: I think you’re full of shit.”

“It’s the truth, Klaus. Now let me out.”

“If you hated me, you wouldn’t cry and leave because _I happened_. You hate Diego with the burning passion of a thousand suns and you never cried or left over it!”

“Well maybe that’s because Diego doesn’t exasperate me all day! I can handle that idiot!”

Klaus smirked as he crossed his arms on his chest and taunted, “You’re not leaving because I displease you, Handler, you’re leaving because _I turn you on_.”

“Oh my God,” she moaned, “you’re so stubborn, there’s _no way_ I can handle you. Which is why I’m _leaving_.”

Klaus grabbed her wrist and looked into her eyes as he asked, “You think you can’t _handle_ me? Oh, Handler, you’ve been handling me without even trying, since the _moment_ I met you. It’s not like I ever tried to hide it, either.”

“Well, I never wanted any of that,” sulked the Handler, feeling blamed for something she was the victim of.

“Oh, I know you never meant to handle me. It’s actually what first took my interest. I wondered why, _why_ would the woman whose job is manipulation itself not use me to her advantage? I mean, if you really did sleep with me just to shut me up, which sounds like an ugly lie to me, then why not make the most out of this enemy of yours served on a silver platter? I actually had to check with Five, who lectured me about it too, but there was _nothing_ in that pact stopping you from seducing me. So I told myself you just weren’t interested. I’ve got no objection to that. Again, I’m all for consent. Still I never could resist a little teasing, but the _reactions_ I got from you, _damn_ , I didn’t expect that! You’re quite the tease yourself, you _know_ how it works. The reaction’s the best part, and you indulged me a _lot_ in that little game. Yet your behavior never made any sense to me. I really didn’t get _why_ a woman of your kind got so mad every time I hit on her. You made a big mistake, by the way, by never leaving the room. It quickly came to my attention that you run away the second any of my siblings enter the room, even Five, most of the time. But you’d rather shut me up with a kiss than leave. And then this morning, oh, the _irony!_ You accuse _me_ of doing the very thing _you_ were meant to do, the infamous seducing the enemy. Now, baby, tell me, why wouldn’t you play a game you thought I did too? I’m not the Handler here, _you_ are. You could easily handle me into causing the Apocalypse myself if you put your heart into it, you’d just have to wait five years for it. But you didn’t. Never even tried. You'd have nothing to lose from it. And then it hit me. It’s a lot harder to kill a pawn with a face.”

As miserable as livid, the Handler replied firmly, “We are meant to kill each other.”

“No, no, you are meant to kill me,” Klaus corrected her, “I have no intention of ever killing you, even though it would be easier for me since I could still see you afterwards.”

“Good for you, but I, for one, have no interest in spending five years with you only to watch you die.”

“Why not? It’s long enough.”

“Do you even hear yourself? You clearly don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“I wish I didn’t, but believe me, I really do. I _wish_ I had gotten four more years with Dave. And now I’d like five with you.”

“Why would you want to give yourself more material to grieve? Why would you _ever_ want to be with someone when you know it’s going to end?”

“Because, you maddening control-freak, _at least it happened!_ ”

As Klaus shouted, blaring noises surrounded them. The Handler took a step back, startled. It suddenly came to both of their attention that most of the room’s furniture had been levitating around them and had just fallen down. The more threatened the Handler felt, the more hostile she got, so she answered spitefully:

“You know what’s gonna happen, Klaus? The Apocalypse. It’s going to kill you and your family and the only way for you to survive is to kill the _entire_ Time Commission, me _included_. I’m running out of ways of telling this, but once again: You and I? It can never happen!”

“Yes, you keep saying that, but _it already happened_. Besides that’s bullshit, if you joined us–”

“Don’t you dare finish that thought, Klaus, that is _never_ happening!”

“And why not?”

“Because none of you fools will ever defeat the Commission! And I am _not_ breaking that damned pact by offering you to join us.”

“Surely you cannot expect me to let my siblings die to join your diabolical agency,” Klaus scoffed.

“And why not? You’re expecting _me_ to throw my whole life away for you! I am not joining you, I am _not_ spending the next five years with you, it will _never_ happen, _we will never either_. The only thing happening is the Apocalypse and that’s really not my problem!”

Klaus looked at her with pure disdain.

“You know that’s really more your problem than mine, Handler, because you’ll spend the rest of your life wondering what could have happened if you weren’t such a coward, with my brother as a reminder by your side. Just leave.”

The door opened and that’s exactly what happened. The Handler ran away from this room, this house and this man.

 


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey! New chapter. Just so you know, I corrected the approximate number of chapters. I keep separating and adding chapters in the middle, so it might change again. But don't worry, the complete story is written, there's no chance this will be left unfinished.  
> This chapter is pretty short. It was supposed to be the ending of last one, but I wanted to mark the time transition a little. But next one's gonna be very long! I wrote it today.  
> Hope you like it :)

**All’s Four in Love and War**

\- 239 weeks left before the end of the Pact -

 

The Handler had peacefully lived her own life for eight weeks. She went to Seattle, found a job as a hospital superintendent and she handled everything that came her way with gratifying ease. She even accepted to date a surgeon with ridiculously gorgeous hair. Derek didn’t really interest her, but at least, he didn’t wear absurd tattoos on his palms or infuriate her to the point of making her cry. She was actually packing a suitcase for a week-end in Vermont with the man when Five appeared in her hotel room.

“Don’t think I didn’t notice you’re cheating.”

The Handler recognized the voice and didn’t even bother to look behind her.

“Is there no release from you people?” she sighed.

“No, because I can go anywhere and my wife hears everything,” Five smirked, “why do you think I agreed to this pact?”

She let go of her bag and turned around, scandalized.

“Five, are you actually such of fool that you _married_ that girl again?”

“What?” he blurted, then shook his head, “No, no, we don’t need that.”

“Then why on _earth_ would you call her your wife?!”

“Because it already happened,” Five answered, looking concerned she’d lost her mind.

“Oh, for fuck’s sake! No, _no_ , not you too. I thought you were the sane one!”

“You’re the crazy one here, Handler,” scolded Five, “Are you gonna run away every time you start to feel something? Because there’s no point to this whole pact if you do.”

“Then to hell with it, just release me from it! Just kill yourself, I give up on your soul.”

Five shook his head no again.

“No way, that’s cheating. You’re asking me for a rage-quit because you’re afraid to lose. Not happening.”

The Handler sighed again, giving up on the very concept of emotions, and replied neutrally:

“I’m not cheating, and you don’t get to dictate my life for the next five years, Five.”

She bent to pick up her suitcase, but Five had jumped and was now sitting on it, his arms crossed like the pompous asshole that he was.

“It is cheating if you push away everyone who gets close to you,” he rebuked, “That’s not what a normal person does. But I’m not worried, I’m sure in next five years you’ll get bored enough to actually let someone in.”

“Ha! Like that’s _ever_ happening…”

Five frowned, dubious.

“Well it already happened once, why wouldn’t it happen again?”

“Because I’m never coming near Klaus ever again, that is why!” hissed the Handler.

Five’s eyebrows raised like he never expected her to even mention Klaus, but a second was the longest he could bring himself to care about it.

“It will happen with someone else,” he shrugged.

“No-no, let me be 100% crystal fucking clear here Five: that’s _never_ happening.”

Five sent her a suspicious, disbelieving look, the same one he gave her when he told her he wanted his siblings to survive.

“You mean because you won’t let them, or because you’ll never love anyone else?”

“You’re being a dick and I hope Seven kicks your ass,” the Handler warned, “I will mingle with every single human on this planet if that makes you all shut the fuck up about Klaus forever.”

The young man kept glaring at her in silence.

“Five, I am not leaving because I’m scared of joining you,” sighed the Handler, “I’m leaving because I know I won’t. Whatever happens. And I won’t fall for a man I have to kill, I won’t let it happen and that’s my right.”

“Well, it _already happened_ ,” Five rolled his eyes, “Whatcha gonna do about it?”

“Ha! That’s rich coming from you. You’ve spent _decades_ in the Apocalypse and still won’t let it happen. A fool like you has no authority over my feelings or my life. I’ll do as I please, as I’ve always done before.”

Five’s face now conveyed his contempt with an insulting touch of pity. 

“You think _I’m_ the fool? Don’t you understand it yet? Handler, I’m not fighting against your free will, I’m fighting _for_ it. You think I want the two sickest bastards I know to end up together? _Hell, no!_ I obviously don’t have any control over your feelings, but the thing is: you don’t either. _Nobody_ does.”

“This is ridiculous,” she muttered, prepared to leave her own hotel room.

“Handler, stop kidding yourself,” Five insisted, “You know it to be true. Take it from someone _you_ sent to spend a lifetime alone in the Apocalypse: it is _impossible_ to live without feelings, and the more you try to handle them, the more they’ll handle you. Have fun lying to yourself. I’m out.”

He disappeared, leaving the Handler to resume her packing with nervous hands.

 

*

 

Though she didn’t really care about him, the Handler didn’t mean to stand Derek up at the airport. She went there, but instead of meeting him she took the first flight to the City. It’s not that she _wanted_ to see Klaus per se. She just really _needed_ to break his freaking nose with that secret mean left hook of hers, because _fuck_ that guy. It’s not a breach of the pact if it’s only to beat some sense into him, right? Maybe it will cure him from being an annoying son of a bitch. They might all thank her afterwards. Give her a medical Nobel prize or something. Yeah, why not? Strangest things have happened. Her confidence in the merits of her endeavor only grew with each mile that brought her closer to her goal.

Then, the taxi dropped her off in front of the Umbrella Academy, and she could smell it. The nauseating stink of her own fucking feelings. Goddamn _pheromones_ coming out of her pores and clinging to her skin like sweat. _Blech_.

Because she still intended to go through that front door, the Handler finally realized the Hargreeves had been right all along. It had already happened. Hell to it all.

The Handler had barely grazed the knob, the front door suddenly opened and Klaus, who was chuckling and talking to an invisible man behind him, almost knocked her over. His shock matched hers for an instant, until his lips stretched into an evil smirk.

“Oh! Now, Look Who’s Back,” he breathed, then mocked a Nazi salute, “Willkommen zurück, meine Führerin!”

The Handler was speechless, too brainfucked to even blink, so Klaus turned to go back inside and kept taunting her with his spiteful words.

“What do you want, Handler? Changed your mind about handling me into launching the Apocalypse yet?”

“No,” she breathed, “I changed my mind about spending five years with you.”

Klaus turned around, baffled. He made a step towards her, but stopped himself like he didn’t really believe what he’d just heard.

“I am not joining your side at the end of it,” the Handler warned, “ _Ever_. And I will leave the minute you ever try to talk me into it.”

“I won’t.”

Klaus took another step to join his ever-so-slightly trembling hand with hers.

“The baby might try, though,” he joked.

“We are never having a child together Klaus, you are insane and it’s _never_ happening.”

He chuckled, pulled her inside the house and kissed her. She graciously let it happen.

 


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi! So I wrote this chapter yesterday, as a replacement interlude for Five Little Monkeys that I posted separately.
> 
> There are WARNINGS for this chapter:
> 
> First, there are brief scenes of sexual harassment from strangers to the Handler. This is not a subject I take lightly at all, and because this is the Umbrella universe, said harassers get severely punished. Light gore, but nothing you wouldn't see in the show.
> 
> Secondly, and this is important: this chapters refers to Game of Thrones. It contains a SPOILER about JON SNOW in S06E02 (but it's kind of public knowledge already?) Never read the books btw. Now, you can choose not to read this interlude, the story was written without it. But that's my new favorite chapter, so maybe it's worth a peak ;)  
> If never watched or read Game of Thrones, and still would like to read this, I made a quick recap:  
> Ramsey is a major sadist. Rob, Jon, Sansa, Arya, Bran and Rickon are siblings who fight ice-zombies ruled by the Night King. Khaleesi is a bad-ass dragon queen, Jamie and Cersei are incestuous siblings, Tyrion is an pervy, alcoholic, sarcastic dwarf and his father's biggest disappointment, Hodor is a mentally challenged but sweet big guy. Also, "You know nothing, Jon Snow".  
> No need to tell you the spoiler ahead, Klaus never knows anything either, he'll learn it with you guys.
> 
> AH! Almost forgot. The actor who plays Ramsey also with Robert Shehaan (Klaus/Nathan) in Misfits. Weiiird character, goes from supercreep to superhero. Nathan never remembers his name so he calls him Barry. Well, major spoilers for Nathan's story in Misfits too, but mainly it's just Klaus telling a dream he had.

** You know nothing, Klaus Snow **

\- 2006 -

_One Year Before the Pact_

 

It was a weird habit, but for nearly twenty years now, the first thing Ben and Klaus usually told each other was their dreams from last night. They never did before Ben died. It all began because of it, actually. As a ghost, Ben could doze, but he never dreamed, while Klaus obviously did. So Ben got curious and asked his brother, every morning or more likely afternoon, what he had dreamed about. Well, that’s not exactly right. After a month he never had to ask anymore, Klaus kinda naturally told him, even when they were disturbing as fuck – _especially_ when they were disturbing as fuck.

Two years before their Father died, they had stopped because Ben had refused to give his brother the door code to sneak out of rehab. The event in itself quickly became water under a bridge. Ben knew Klaus didn’t really mean to overdose, but the junkie rarely cared for his own life and as a dead person that was _annoying_ , so his brother’s threat to keep his dreams a secret forever was the least of his worries at this point. Anyway, that idiot had no self-discipline, hence the drug addiction, and he rarely lasted longer than a week before relapsing in old habits, this one included.

Still, Klaus never told his dreams while he was in rehab, and he was there more often than not. Last time he got out, he’d overdosed on the spot. Ben was past lecturing his brother about it, he just brooded, dozing on and off while the family reunited for Reginald’s death. _Who fucking cared._ He still stayed close to his brother in case the old guy decided to ghost-scold him. He had no idea how Klaus could have helped with that, but he certainly wasn’t enduring it alone. Well, that never happened.

Instead, Klaus came back from Vietnam, Ben came back from _the dead_ and suddenly the roles were reversed. Ben was so excited about his own dreams he didn’t notice Klaus had completely stopped telling his. He got a little concerned after a month, though. He figured his brother didn’t want to talk about his Vietnam flash-backs to anyone but Dave, so he didn’t comment on it, but still, he kind of missed it.

He also realized how _vulnerable_ Klaus must have felt, divulging such an intimate part of himself for years to someone who didn’t reciprocate. Which was why Benjamin Longsuffering-Is-My-Curse-And-Virtue Hargreeves intended to keep the habit until the cosmic privacy balance was restored. He was a bit worried it would take decades, but in fact, it took only four.

And to say Ben wasn’t prepared would be a grave understatement.

“Hey, man,” he smiled as he sat next to his brother at the kitchen table, “remember when you forced me to bingewatch the first four seasons of Game of Thrones in a row?”

“Actually, I don’t,” smirked Klaus, “but seeing that you didn’t notice I passed out within thirty minutes of it, I’m guessing you had a better time than I did. Or maybe not! I was _so_ baked, those dreams were pretty wild.”

Ben narrowed his eyes at him and muttered, “You swore you wouldn’t smoke.”

“And I still swear I didn’t, Benny, but you didn’t say anything about the _cookies_ , so…”

“You’re an asshole. I’m forcing you to re-watch it, _sober_.”

“Sure. I already did, but why not. We can watch it as soon as it airs again. Hey, how about this time I bake _you_ cookies?”

“No! Shut _up_. I wanted to tell you _my dream_.”

“Oh, you had it _too_?!” gasped Klaus. “That creep is so fucked-up, it’s weirdly _hot!_ ”

“Which creep?” asked Ben, suspecting he wouldn’t like the answer one bit.

“I _never_ remember his name… I think it’s like Barry or something? You know, the guy who _literally_ eats dick.”

Ben’s mind completely crashed for a second.

“ _What?!_ Klaus, you _cannot_ have a crush on _Ramsey!_ ”

“Why not?” Klaus asked,

“Because you can’t! It’s _wrong_ and I’m pretty sure it’s illegal!”

“Even in my _dreams_?”

“Even in the _afterlife!_ ”

“So, just so we’re clear, I can’t have _dreams_ about a _fictional character_ even if I’m _dead_?”

“Yes! I forbid you to even think about it!”

“Oh, man, not cool! _Why_ would you say that? Now I’m gonna think about it even more…”

“That’s it, pack your things,” commanded Ben. “I’m taking you to a mental institution.”

“On what ground? Because I have _dreams_?”

“Yes! It’s about time we take care of all your maso-shit! Just because it’s a sex-kink doesn’t mean it’s not a _sickness_.”

“Well, I don’t know about that, but there’s no sex in my dreams. There’s just me falling from a building and asking Barry to save me, but that dork doesn’t and I die.”

“Fucking _what_?” blurted Ben, bewildered.

“Then I wake up in a coffin and they open the lid while I was jerking off - that was annoying - and after that, I meet _you_ , you’re dead and all, but you don’t look like you, it’s weird… Later, I meet a cute preggie right before she pops a _baby_ , ain’t that neat? You know how much I love babies. If it weren’t for Dave I’d have one by now… But anyway, I marry the girl, the three of us move to Vegas, I become a magician and pop a _live rabbit_ out of my ass.”

Ben looked at him for a minute. Finally, he said, “Klaus… I hate you.”

“What did I do now?”

“I wanted to tell you _my_ weird dream.”

“You had a _weird_ dream?” squealed Klaus, “Tell me!”

“No way, it’s not even weird anymore when yours is about fifty shades of _crazier_.”

“Who cares? I don’t. Just _tell me_.”

Ben hesitated a few seconds under his brother’s eager stare.

“I had a dream, that Five kept telling us “Winter is coming”, but we didn’t really listen to him and then we met the Night King and it was Vanya, you know, all white with blue eyes?”

Klaus nodded, barely containing his excitement while he waited the rest of that story.

“That’s it,” concluded Ben.

The sudden plot twist made Klaus burst out laughing. Ben scowled at him, and it was so _typical_ of him, always so concise and straight-to-the-point, Klaus laughed even more.

“It’s not your fault,” he told his sulking brother between giggles, “I got overexcited and didn’t expect that _premature_ _ending._ You know how I react to emotional rollercoasters.”

“Well, I told you my dream wasn’t as cool as yours,” Ben grumbled, crossing his arms.

“Oh, I wouldn’t be so sure… By the way, who was Five?”

“I don’t know, I think he was Bran and Arya all in one…”

“Mm, that’d make sense, our future-knowing little psycho. Hey, was I in there?”

Ben nodded, but replied, “I don’t want to tell you, you’ll get all annoying about it.”

Klaus slammed his palms on the table and got up to exclaim, “No way! I was _Khaleesi?!_ ”

“Pff! In _your_ dreams.”

“Yeah, you’re right, I’m more of a Tyrion…” pondered Klaus as he sat back on his chair, then pointed at his brother, “but _you_ could be! Baeneris Targreeves, The Undead, Father of Monsters, Bearer of Bentacles, Protector of the Seven Siblings, King of Horror, Lord of the Library and Licker of Ice Cream.”

Of course, Ben laughed. Who wouldn’t? He made such a show out of it.

“Oh my _god_ ,” dramatically moaned the unstoppable Klaus, “ _please_ tell me Luther and Allison were Jamie and Cersei!”

“Allison was Sansa,” corrected Ben, “and I was Rob, by the way.”

“Oh, so you kept us a family? Luther was Jon, sent to the wall for daring to blink too loudly?”

“Nah, I think Luther was Rickon as a fairly enhanced Hodor?”

Klaus guffawed at that. He was practically crying when he replied, “That is the meanest, funniest thing I have ever heard, and I will love you _forever_ for it. Wait, so Diego was Jon?”

“No, he’s _actual_ Arya. Keeps throwing shit at people and always does his own thing.”

“True,” Klaus agreed, deep in his thoughts, until he got it, “Wait a minute… You dreamed _I_ was Jon Snow? How- What- _Why?_ ”

“Well it’s a little obvious, don’t you think?” Ben rolled his eyes.

“No, it’s not. _Why?_ ”

Ben looked pointedly at him. Then Klaus seemed to get it.

“Oh my god, it’s because I never know anything, isn’t it?! You’re _such a prick!_ ”

Ben was so surprised by that answer and offended reaction, he laughed. Then he got it. Ben had read the books when they were teenagers, so he knew, but Klaus didn’t. He had stopped watching way before that episode went on air.

_He literally knew nothing._

It was hilarious, and Ben was never telling him.

 

*

\- 2009 -

_Two Years In the Pact_

 

Years later, the Handler came unto Klaus’ life. Well, to be completely honest, it had mostly been the contrary. Whatever, Klaus’ “ _not a relationship, this is not happening and will never happen_ ” meant that he spent the vast majority of his time with an avid reader. Well, three of them, if you counted Vanya and Ben, but it had been years since either of them bothered trying to make him open a book. Klaus read sometimes, that was not the question. But it was for a direct, personal purpose. The perfect example of that was two years after Ben died. They had started playing chess, because it was the only game they could really play together. Ben pointed or said which move he wanted, and Klaus moved his piece for him. They mostly played in public parks, because apparently, talking while playing against yourself was a thing now. Sometimes, random people even sat and watched curiously. Then, one day, a little kid, that Klaus still to this day claimed was Little Five – it wasn’t, Ben was there, the resemblance was uncanny, but that child must have been five or something, way too young to be _actually_ Five – called Klaus a _loser_. Not because he was a crazy guy playing chess with an imaginary friend, mind you, but because he kept getting his ass kicked, and it was _lame_. On that, Not Little Five left. Klaus had been too shocked to insult the Little Prick before he was gone, so they just resumed to playing, but Ben could see that his brother was offended.

The thing was, Klaus was an addict with a challenging case of ADHD, and he really did it all to indulge his recently deceased, bored-to-death brother. He barely even listened to Ben when he explained special moves like castling or _en passant_ capture, he just let them happen without ever reciprocating. But after Too Little To Be Lost Little Five’s remark, Klaus stole a chess strategy book from a library and crammed it all night. And then, it became _interesting_. Because Klaus was not the kind of person who followed a role-model, he just got inspired here and there to do his own thing until he became his own kind of genius. Ben knew the guy practically since birth, he had haunted him for years, and he still had no idea what went on in his crazy mind.

Now, it’s not like Klaus became the Great Master of Chess. He still lost more often than not. But you should never underestimate him, least of all let your guard down, because that guy would always blow your mind when you least expected it. Ben sometimes wondered if that had been Reginald’s strategic plan all along, bullying Klaus about how much a disappointment he was, just to make him insanely unpredictable. Well, if it had been his tactic, it sure blew up in his face worse than Vanya did the moon…

When they went back to the past, Reginald wasn’t in the picture anymore, so they all got very bored. Ben and Klaus played chess in the library again. Despite not having played for a few years, Klaus had improved a lot thanks to four reasons, all of them related to Dave. First, he got sober to be with the ghost of the man he loved. Second, he totally wanted to show off in front of said ghost. Third, he had fought almost a year in an actual war, most of it just to protect a few soldiers who had become a better family than his own. Fourth, he had seen the love of his life die before his eyes, because of politics he would never understand, not because he couldn’t, but because they were too vain, futile, pointless, and while the rulers of this world didn’t grasp the true value of a life, Klaus had spent the rest of his days wondering what he wouldn’t have sacrificed to keep the single most precious person of his life alive, and the answer was _nothing_ , because all the rest was _worthless_.

All of those events now made Klaus very implicated in the game of chess.

Dave had changed their brother in ways no one could have imagined. Not only did he finally get Klaus sober, he made him grateful for his powers, and that was something none of the Hargreeves ever thought possible. Klaus was _at peace_. Even through the withdrawal period, he was happier than he had ever been. Then, the night after Vanya’s accident, which Ben felt about a hundred percent responsible for, Dave had decided it was time for Klaus to get over him. Ben knew that, because Vanya knew that, because Vanya heard _everything_ , because she _cared_ and surprisingly, so did they. However, Vanya didn’t _know_ everything, so once again, Klaus surprised them all by doing the most unexpected thing. He accepted Dave’s reasoning as sound. It had little to do with the Handler, contrary to Diego’s fear. He simply trusted that ghost more than himself. Ben thought it was a bit unfair, to be honest. He’d haunted the guy for over a decade and he _never_ listened to him. Klaus only response to that criticism was batting his eyes and asking him if _he_ ever sucked his dick. Over that disturbing yet admittedly fair point, Ben never complained about that again.

It was concerning, though. Because of The Freaking Handler. Once Diego understood none of it was to make Dave come back, nor to handle her, he cried a little. Ben knew that, because Vanya knew that, made the mistake of telling Five, and that little shit would probably have published a book about it, just for the sake of being a dick, but he didn’t have that kind of time on his hands, so instead he just told Ben. Diego’s overreaction to those two fucking for sport was hilarious to him. That’s when Ben realized that Five was the last inhabitant of the house who remained blissfully unaware that Klaus and the Handler were truly _happening_. Even Luther had understood that. A _long_ time ago. Surely Vanya must have told Five, but the self-proclaimed genius probably dismissed that idea as impossible.

*

It was during the weeks that the Handler had left that Five finally noticed something was off. She never came back to torment him. Wasn’t it why she slept with his brother in the first place? There was no doubt in his mind that the Handler was too much of a professional to ever fall in love with one of her targets, especially _Klaus_. Of course, she was preemptively making sure she didn’t grow attached to anyone. He would let this one pass. It really was in his own interest that she stayed away from his brother. But he needed to tell her that she’d better not pull that move again over the next four and a half years, because this wasn’t happening on his watch.

What he discovered was beyond imaginable. Klaus, his lamest brother, who he distinctively remembered was so bad at chess it was painful to watch, had actually handled his way right to the Handler’s heart. He had her in checkmate and they didn’t even know it.

Just in case, he made sure _she_ knew.

None of Five's siblings knew he had gone after the Handler until one morning he snapped, ordering her to get out of the house, and she replied it was _his_ fault she was there to empty the last pot of coffee.  Five was absolutely certain this was her new _evil_ way to pick on him. His instinct told him she would not stop her shenanigan there, probably poison with laxatives every coffee shop nearby, so he switched to tea and secretly loathed every second of it. It's not paranoia if it's true. That was Five's motto. Nobody ever mentioned to him that Diego had been the one who finished the coffee stash that day.

*

Did Klaus’ siblings love the Handler? Love would not be the word. Some of them liked her. She was mean, but most of it was focused on Five and Diego, which was always enthusiastic about hating someone, so really, the family was just happy those three sharks had found each other and left the others in peace.

Then, weird stuff happened. It was mostly their fault, really, that she kept getting in harm's way.

The first time, the Handler was reading in the library, she heard commotions and Vanya’s unbearable warning-whistle. She didn’t have time to hide before three armed men kicked the door open. She blinked, and they were dead. Five had shot them, checked if she was okay with one quick look, and disappeared. It lasted less than five seconds. By the time she'd found Klaus, she didn't find it worthy to mention.

The second time, she was trying to wake up Klaus, but that useless war veteran could sleep through actual bombings. She was literally about to get _kidnapped by aliens_ when Luther grabbed those guys and threw them to the other side of the corridor. He even closed the door behind him. She was so baffled, she just went back to bed, and the next morning, she wasn't sure she hadn't dreamed it all, so she decided to forget about it.

The third time, she was doing something she hated. They went to Allison’s big movie premiere. Klaus was showing off his sparkly silver leggings, pretending to have some hot secret love affair with Diego who didn’t help his case by smacking him lightly. They were bickering like an old couple, when the Handler felt some creep slap her ass as a hello. Next thing she knew, Ben had punched the guy in the face. As it turned out, it was Allison’s co-star, and he had to do the whole premiere with a broken nose. Allison had to _rumor_ him not to press charges. None of them ever told Klaus what really happened. He still believed Ben just didn’t like the guy’s face. Well, he sure liked it better that way.

The fifth time, she didn’t believe it herself, so she never told anyone. She and Number Two were throwing insults at each other, as their “good morning” usually went, when suddenly he pushed her behind him and threw deadly knives at the surging enemy. Once said enemy was dead, Diego told her she didn’t get to die before the end of the pact, and left her dumbfounded.

The sixth time, she was out with Allison and Vanya. It wasn’t that she wanted to, but Klaus was watching Game of Thrones and it was for _all the wrong reasons_ so it pissed her off even being in the same house as him. Anyway, while the sisters went to the bathroom, the Handler found herself to the point where a drunk guy tried to forcefully kiss her. He suddenly looked like he was being strangled by an invisible force and the cutlery on the table started shaking, until a fork pinned his hand to their table. The Handler turned around, Vanya was scowling, with terrifying blue eyes, while she was buttoning up her jeans. Allison joined them in a rush, and seeing the situation, she snarled, “I heard a rumor you will leave and never disrespect a woman ever again.” It was with sadistic satisfaction that the Handler dislodged the fork from his hand and tasted the blood under his very eyes. Getting that prick to cry _before_ he ran away was her personal revenge. She certainly didn’t score the infamous Master of All That Is Disturbing for nothing. Whether or not she should have asked for another fork to eat their tapas was the main topic for the rest of the girls’ evening. But it wasn’t up for discussion. The Handler would drink the blood of her enemy because that’s what warriors did. In the end, they had a lovely night.

When they all got back to the house, she decided that, as for all the previous times, Klaus would know nothing. It took some time before she found him. When she did, it was in the last place she’d expected him to be: the library. Apparently, he was entranced by one of G.R.R. Martin’s book.

“Oh my God, I’m Jon Snow,” he realized out loud.

The Handler came to sit next to him, and scoffed, “In what version of the universe could _you_ ever be Jon Snow?”

He raised his head from his book, a bit startled. He gave her a tender smile as he took her hand in his, kissed her knuckles softly and went back to his reading.

“This one,” he replied, “Ben told me, like, _years_ ago, and I didn’t believe it either, but now I get it.”

“I should know better than to ask, because this whole family is beyond intelligible, but _why_ would Number Six think that?”

Klaus chuckled. “Because I can’t die, you know that.”

“You certainly can. You did and you _will_ in the Apocalypse.”

“Yes, but that’s because God only brings me back to stop it.”

“Are we going to have this conversation again, Klaus?”

“You don’t believe me? Babe, you’ve _seen_ me come back to life. The mushrooms accident?”

“No, I’ve seen you _almost die_ , Klaus, that is _not_ coming back to life.”

Klaus was now looking at her like he couldn’t believe _her_. She had finally rendered him silent and it was once again for the _wrong reasons_. He couldn’t simply be grateful for all the times he got lucky, could he? He just had to make it about _God_ … The Handler had to break his fantasy before he got himself stupidly killed.

“And if your god is so powerful,” she added, “why doesn’t it simply bring everybody back to life after the Apocalypse?”

“You know what, that’s a damn good question,” Klaus agreed, “I’ll ask her next time…”

He was about to resume his reading when the Handler closed the book and threw it away. Now that she got his full attention, she looked at him dead in the eye and talked slowly so the idiot in front of her would finally understand.

“Klaus, listen to me. If you ever put yourself through another reckless near-death experience because you’re too stupid to shake that ridiculous delusion out of your crazy head, I will _murder you myself_ and you’ll finally know the difference between almost and _dying_.”

The stupid man chuckled and kissed her.

“Alright, but could you make it in one shot? She really doesn’t like me, so she only heals fatal wounds.”

“I don’t take requests from people I kill,” snapped the Handler.

“Well, I think that’s very rude of you. Do you take requests from people you kill _and_ fuck? Oh, wait, I just had _genius_ idea: you could _bang_ me to death! I think it’s your best chance to kill me, considering the pact. But it’s still gonna take you a few years, so you should totally start now.”

The Handler really, really tried. Despite her best efforts, Klaus never died. She would have taken it as a personal failure, but that outcome suited her just as well.

 

*

 

The seventh time she was attacked, the Handler didn’t need anyone’s help.

She was sitting in the living room’s couch, legs crossed on the coffee table, reading Shakespeare while Klaus snored lightly on her lap with his headphones blaring music in his ears at a deafening level, when fifteen Commission Assassins broke into the house from all ways and they were about to shoot when they recognized her.

“Take your masks off before your superior, gentlemen,” the Handler commanded imperiously.

They all looked at each other but did as asked, terrified to their very core. How great it felt that people obeyed her religiously, the Handler thought as she absentmindedly stroked Klaus’ hair, still obliviously asleep on her lap.

“What is it that brings you all here?”

She recognized Hazel’s younger brother, whispering “ _How do we know it’s really her?_ ” to his partners.

“Kemper, care to share with the class? Or should I ask the lady of the room? Sorry, I didn’t see you there before, Corday. I’m sure you’ll forgive me, seeing that I could just bring you back to July 17, 1793 for your execution. Don’t mind if I keep your head as a souvenir? You know how I like to collect things.”

“Fuck, it’s really her,” murmured another, shakily keeping his hold on his weapon.

“Mind your language, Booth. And lower your gun, you don’t get away with everything just for assassinating a president. One of you tell me who sent you, _now_.”

“It- It was Carla! She said there was unusual activity in the house and we needed to remove the threat.”

“I _am_ the threat, Shipman. Not to the Apocalypse, not to the Commission, but to _you_. So, here’s what’s going to happen. You will not, under any circumstances, attack this house, unless it’s a direct order from _me_. This is my home for the next three years and I will not have you ruin my mission.”

“You’re in undercover mission?” gasped Corday.

“What is it about?” asked Kemper curiously.

“ _Quiet._ I wonder how you could think that’s _any_ of your business. You are stepping on _my_ territory. I am a very generous person to the people who do as I ask, but do you want to know what happens to the ones who don’t? _I handle them_. You do _not_ want to disappoint me. Unless you want me to handle _you_ _idiots_ , you will return to the Commission this instant. In fact, it’s an _order_.”

“But, Ma’am, what should we tell in our reports?”

“Tell The Boss I made a pact with Five that will bind him to join us after the Apocalypse. You have exactly ten seconds to get out of my sight before I terminate all of you.”

She barely had to count to four when they all disappeared in the suitcase with a blinding flash of blue light that woke Klaus up. She bent over to shut his lips with hers before he could ask what happened.

“I had the weirdest dream,” he murmured between kisses. “I played chess with Lincoln and I lost. Your mom was very disappointed in me, so I told her to fuck off, that okay?”

“Sure, you want me to teach you in Yiddish?”

“Nah, I already caught that one.”

Klaus knew nothing, but he learned fast.

He never knew what happened that night, though.

His siblings, who had been spying the whole scene from upstairs, did.

“You know what that means?” whispered Ben, incredulous.

“Yeah,” snickered quietly Diego, “Klaus fell in love with Dad.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you liked this chapter! I'll leave you to find the identities of all the Temps Assassins :)


	15. Chapter 15

** Hit Me Baby One More Time **

\- 2011 -

 

Four years she’d been refusing a child to that madman, and still, he kept nagging for the same thing in different languages or manners. This morning, the kleptomaniac stole a onesie that had “Drink Milk Hail Satan” written on it. It’s a wonder how a maternity store even let him get in, thought the Handler as he dropped the gift on her lap. She glared at Klaus who grinned wider than a kid proud to show his mom the frog he’d just caught. It was too early for screaming, so the Handler discarded the baby garment on the bench and just asked, “What next, you’re gonna ask me to marry you?”

Klaus sniggered while he lit a cigarette and shook his head no.

“Nah, that’s never happening. You know I’m already married to Ben.”

“What?”

Klaus frowned like he was surprised she didn’t know that. “Why do you think I let him insult and kick me all the time? He’s a very abusive husband.”

“You’re lying again,” groaned the Handler, rolling her eyes.

“What?” he gasped, a hand to his chest, “How dare you make fun of the abuse I suffer from my very own straight brother! I’m calling the police.”

“You’re an idiot.”

“You will never hear me deny such blatant truth,” he smiled.

The Handler hesitated a few minutes while Klaus smoked his poison of choice.

“Do,” she stopped herself, “Did you have a thing for Ben?”

“Mm... I don’t know... You know what? Maybe I should try and suck him, just to make sure...  That’s not cheating, right?”

The Handler scowled, mortified by this idiot’s relentless teasing, and got up to leave.

“You’re annoying, and we are not in a relationship. Fuck all your siblings for all I care.”

Klaus followed her as she walked back to the house. The garden felt gigantic while she suffered his never-ending dramatic speech.

“Well that would be impractical! How am I ever gonna survive Vanya’s wrath? Or worse, Five’s! He’s way scarier than the Apocalypse, you know. He beat the _shit_ out of me when he learnt I was her first kiss, and I didn’t even get beyond first base with her! I mean, we were four or something. Though, now that you mention it, Diego and I have _massive_ potential here. I know for a fact that he’s really good at tying me up. But that’s _nothing_ compared to the raw, pure _sexual_ chemistry between Ben and I. After all, tentacle rape is my favorite kind of porn. And as a ghost, he’s walked on me wanking more than once. Oooh, maybe he did it on _purpose!_ Ha! That little creep.”

“You finished?” the Handler gritted through her teeth.

“Having imaginary incestuous sex with my _entire family_? Ho-ho, never!”

“You have a sickness, Klaus.”

“Oh, like you’re a saint,” he scoffed, “I’m pretty sure you had a thing for Five coming in.”

They had just reached the terrace when the Handler stopped and turned around. She first had meant to correct yet another false belief of his, but suddenly decided to beat the player at his own game instead.

“Well, that never stopped, why do you think I’m still here?” She watched Klaus instantly losing his smile and it felt like the epitome of satisfaction, so she kept on, “I’m a very patient woman, you know. Just wait for the Apocalypse and I’ll get my reward. I’ll keep him warm when you’re all dead.”

“That’s not funny,” he frowned.

“As truth rarely is,” smirked the Handler.

“He’s never gonna want it.”

“Ho-ho,” she mocked him, “I’m _The_ _Handler_ , believe you me, I’ll _handle_ him. I’m going to eat him alive. You’re a snack but he’s my dinner. Did you think this was a story about you and I? No, honey, that story ends with your brother between my legs.”

“You’re being a bitch and not the kind I like,” Klaus sulked.

“Why do you care? You’ll be with Dave.”

Klaus’ scowl disappeared and was replaced by an incredulous expression.

“Oh, fuck,” he breathed, “Is that why you’ve been pushing me away all this time? You think I’m just using you to pass the time until I reunite with him?”

The Handler didn’t like the way that conversation was headed anymore. She meant to go away again, but Klaus grabbed her wrist, his serious stare expecting an answer. She pulled a face and finally muttered: “Well, you do seem very keen on dying.”

“Yeah, I’ve always been like that. If you’d done your research, you’d know I’ve overdosed too many times to count.”

“Well, you’ve got a serious problem,” retorted the Handler.

Klaus’ grip on her arm tightened.

“Yes, I do,” he agreed, “and more than one, because you think I need to die to be with Dave when I really, _really_ don’t. I can see and hear and touch him whenever I want. There’s nothing to stop me.”

The Handler had no idea they could touch and this new piece of information sort of crushed her insides.

“Why did you break up then?” she asked, a bit terrified he’d say for her.

“Because he’s dead,” Klaus calmly replied, “And I’m alive. He’s a selfless prick so he decided I should get over him to live among the living. But I can invoke him anytime I want.”

“Why don’t you?”

“I’m an addict in recovery. I know giving in only makes it worse.”

For some reason, the fact that he _didn’t_ mention her, even though it was exactly what she had wished for seconds ago, deeply upset her.

“So I’m really here to keep your mind occupied,” she realized out loud.

Klaus rolled his eyes but didn’t let go.

“You’re a deeply negative person, you know that? You do occupy my mind but that’s got nothing to do with Dave.”

“Didn’t you sleep with me just to make him go away?” she accused.

“No, and seriously, you’ve got a paranoia problem. You should talk to Allison, she’s a good listener.”

“I am not confiding to that freak,” scorned the Handler.

Klaus released her, threw his cigarette butt which probably would have never reached the terrace’s ashtray without his powers, then scolded her in a low, calm voice, “Don’t talk about her like that. Never. Not when I’m in the room.”

“Why do you care?” the Handler jeered.

“Let’s see… Because she’s my sister and kind of my secret idol since I was a kid and also she lost her daughter because of you and your stupid Apocalypse?”

Klaus was really pissed, and the blame in his voice annoyed the Handler to the point that she got seriously angry too.

“Listen, Klaus. I never wanted to be friends with any of you. You don’t get to force your friendship on me and then guilt me about what I’ve done. I’d do it again. I’ll do it again. That’s how much I care about her.”

There was a spark of hurt in his eyes.

“But you care about me, don’t you?” he asked, a little unsure.

“I’m not answering that stupid question.”

Klaus grabbed her arm again and demanded, “Say it, say that you care about me.”

“I will never say that to you, Klaus,” the Handler scoffed.

“Well I care about you.”

The Handler snatched her arm away from him.

“No, you _don’t_. If you cared about me, you would never ask me to say that to you. In fact, this whole thing is ridiculous.”

“No, no, what’s ridiculous is how much I care about you when you clearly don’t return the favor.”

“You know what Klaus? Maybe it’s the other way around. You’re so careless about it all, it must mean you don’t care.”

“What? Baby, I just don’t care about dying from your hand. Or anyone else’s for that matter.”

“That’s precisely why you don’t care!” snapped the Handler furiously, “Why don’t you care about me killing you?”

“Because I already live with the dead, babe. It doesn’t really change anything for me. And why don’t you care a little about _living_?”

“Because _I care_ about killing you!”

“Well, could you stop that a moment and simply care about me? _I forgive you_ , there! I don’t even care when or where. Do it now, for all I care.”

“You are the most narcissistic, egoistic asshole I have ever met!” she growled. “I wish I could kill you now. I’d make it painful too.”

“Alright, you know I always enjoyed a little BDSM,” he joked with a lopsided smile.

Because violence was the last refuge against the plain stupid, the Handler hit Klaus in the ear.

“Ow! Baby, that _hurt_!” he whined, then grinned, “Do it again.”

“Klaus, we’re not joking around here!” she scolded, “Is this about Dave?”

“Now why would you bring Dave into that mess again?” he scowled.

“Because clearly, whatever happens in the future, you’ll have your way and you don’t care that I’ll be left alone.”

Klaus’ eyes softened and they kept staring at each other for a minute, until he finally asked, “Can we take a break?” Noticing the alarm in her eyes, he added, “Of that discussion.”

“Why?”

He took her in his arms, and the Handler reluctantly let it happen. Klaus whispered against her ear, “Well mainly I want cuddles and sex and a little more of that BDSM we just talked about, but also I’d like to show you’re not alone.”

There was no way she could ever bring herself to kill that man, realized the Handler.

“You just never stop, do you?” she sighed.

“No I don’t,” he smiled, “Now let me give you a baby so you won’t be alone when I die.”

The Handler pushed him away.

“Never happening, Klaus!”

“Oh, _come on!_ ” he pleaded, “I _really_ want one. And I only got a few more years to live. It’s a dying man’s wish!”

“Never, Klaus.”

“But it’ll be so tiny and adorable… I’ll do all the work! I mean after he’s born. And before he’s conceived! Well maybe not, I really like that dominatrix thing you got going on. He might have a power too, it’s gonna be _so cool!_ ”

“Klaus,” the Handler warned, “If I ever have a child of yours, even though I never, _ever_ will, and I’m serious: I’ll make a _weapon_ out of it.”

He laughed at her. “You can’t even make a weapon out of me, you think you’ll make a weapon out of our _baby_?”

“Because that’s a breach of the pact! Plus, there’s no handling you, you’re a lost cause.”

“Na-na, you can’t handle me on _purpose_ , that’s all. But it’s okay, you handle me anyway. Damn, that baby, it’s gonna be so _cute!_ ”

“It’s gonna be the _antichrist!_ ”

“Yes, that’s probably true,” he nodded, “Why do you care? You’re rooting for the Apocalypse.”

“Because, _fuck you!_ ”

“Yes, _please_ , I keep asking you!” Klaus chuckled.

In the Handler’s defense, it really was the only way to shut him up.

 

*

\- 2012 -

 

The last year happened in a heartbeat. The Handler still didn’t give that madman a child, obviously. That would be insane and she was not having it. They had basically spent their last month in bed, though. Well, the Handler wasn’t worried, she had an implant. She never told Klaus that because he would have annoyed her into getting rid of it. Also, she was pretty sure he figured already that out and only used the crazy idea of a baby to rile her up before sex.

Once, the Handler meant to have a snack in the middle of the night and accidentally walked into Diego dancing and singing a Michael Jackson song in the kitchen. Because she had dared to laugh and he really didn’t expect anyone to be awake at 2 am, he threw some knives that ruined yet another dress of hers, and her mood on top of that. The Handler had walked back to her bed and woke Klaus up on the sole purpose of complaining about all the ways she wished she could physically maim his brother.

“You should keep your violence for the people who ask for it,” he teased.

It would be a lie to say they only had rough sex. They did when Klaus asked for it, the masochist psycho, and the Handler indulged him with moderate sadism, but it was mainly unbridled passion, and very occasional compared to all the… rest. Not that they actually said the word to each other. But it was there. It expressed itself in many ways, especially in this one.

In fact, with every day that brought them closer to separation, they had grown more and more silent. Even Klaus, who got very affectionate instead. The Handler couldn’t bring herself to admit she did too. She would miss him, for sure, but she didn’t want to hear or think about the four-letter word. Actions spoke louder than words, anyway.

Then the last day came.

Klaus was buttoning up the back her dress when he finally talked.

“Listen, babe, before you go, I need to tell you –”

“I don’t want to hear it, Klaus.”

“No, you need to know –”

The Handler turned around and interrupted again, “Please! _Please_ , don’t do this to me.”

“Listen to me! Listen, I need to say it, I –”

“No, Klaus! I’m begging here, don’t.”

“Then don’t listen, just let me tell you!”

He grabbed each side of her head, covering her ears hard enough to soundproof them, so the Handler could only see his lips move when he said, “I love you.” Klaus uncovered her ears, and added, “No matter what. Now don’t get killed, and more importantly, be careful with your soul, because I’ll be waiting on the other side.”

The Handler did her best to hold back her tears as he hugged her tightly.

*

She had calmed down by the time she got in Reginald’s old study. Five waited for her to sit in front of him before he commented, indifferent as always, “So, five years now. It went surprisingly quickly.”

It might have been the best compliment he had ever made her.

“Yes,” she replied softly. “Yes, it did.”

“You made your choice then?”

“Yes.”

“Yes, you’ll join us or yes you’ll kill us?”

“I’m sorry, Five,” sighed the Handler.

“Well, it’s not to me you should be apologizing, I’m the only one who you intend to save.”

That was true. The Handler surprised herself as she replied, “Any of you are welcome to join.”

Five snickered darkly at that. “And none of us ever will. Nice try, though. You do know that you can change your mind anytime you want?”

“I won’t.”

He nodded, then got up and extended his right arm in order to shake her hand.

“Well I guess that’s it then. Goodbye, Handler. It’s almost been a pleasure having you here. I look forward to never see you defile my brother again.”

She smiled sadly at his sarcasm, took his hand, and left. She made a pause by the door, to say:

“I’ll see you in a few years, Five.”

“Not if I kill you first,” he muttered.

The Handler opened the door, and just like that, she was gone.

 


	16. Chapter 16

**The Wrong Four-Letter Word**

 

It was difficult coming back to the Commission. Rewarding, also. People at work quickly knew about what she had done. The Handler was congratulated for it. What a smart way to finally get Five to stop messing with the different timelines, praised The Boss. She had once again proven her loyalty by sacrificing five years of her life with the enemy. She had come through a winner and that probably taught them how much of a lost cause fighting the Commission was.

The Handler had lied and told The Boss that a clause of the pact stated that she could personally use, but not tell people what had happened. It wasn’t to protect them. She simply never wanted to talk about it. As strange as it was, her mission to plot their demise kept her mind busy and she was grateful for it.

The Handler couldn’t help but think herself as weak. Weak for falling for the enemy, and worst yet, not leaving his side for five years when she had the choice at every second. She felt like the mere human who had smoked for years and was now diagnosed with cancer. Addicted to what destroys you. Klaus was himself an addict, he should have known better than to drag her into this infernal spiral of feelings. Or maybe he did it on purpose, so she would feel guilty about her work.

She would not fall into that trap. She would not yield. It would never, _ever_ happen again, for the very reason that he wasn’t there to tempt her anymore.

Years passed. It felt like centuries. But each day that went by, The Handler forgot more and more about him. She didn’t miss as much his eyes, his smile, his sent, his touch, his warmth and his annoying stupid voice that never stopped talking. The memory of him went away as for a dream. She felt content with the idea that it could just as well have never happened. Because it never should have. And it will never ever again.

Then one day, she saw the report. The one which said that Klaus was to be killed by Rick and Martha.

And so The Handler did something stupid.

 

\- 2018 -

 

Klaus was so much older now. Twenty-eight, she guessed. He’d grown into a gorgeous man, in his own eccentric, ungendered way. He looked wrecked, completely shit-faced, and was about to sniff some disgusting powder on his coffee table when he realized the world had stopped around him. The Handler was a bit surprised by that, as she had carefully chosen a moment where Klaus was alone in the room. But then she remembered that he was never really alone, and that the ghosts around him probably froze too. Klaus immediately turned around and spotted her sitting on his couch.

“What the fuck?” he breathed.

It had been so many years. So many, many years. She had missed so much.

“Baby, is that really you?”

“Yes, Klaus, it’s me,” she confirmed, looking away from him.

“Fuck!”

Klaus got up, bewildered. He walked toward her, but stopped about five feet from her, as if he was afraid she’d disappear.

“ _Fuck!_ ” he repeated, “You haven’t aged a _day!_ ”

The Handler couldn’t help but smile. A bittersweet feeling filled her chest. He looked so alive. It was almost painful to see.

“You don’t look bad yourself,” she commented, “You’ve grown. Almost six years, for you.”

“How long has it been for you?”

“More.”

“You’re gonna be a babe forever, aren’t you?” he whispered, completely amazed.

The Handler chuckled. He hadn’t changed at all.

“You’re cute,” she replied, failing to cover her fondness with conceit.

“Are you here to kill me?”

Klaus had asked that with honest curiosity and absolutely no fear. That man would never care for his own life, would he?

“No, Klaus. You know I like to keep my hands clean.”

“I know for a fact that your hands can get very filthy,” he smirked. “Are you here for that?”

She laughed again at his hopeful tone.

“No, Klaus, I’m not here for a shag.”

Klaus’ smile somewhat lessened. “That’s a shame… Why are you here then?”

“For a talk.”

“Oh,” he breathed, “so I am gonna die. Do you know who they sent?”

He caught up quickly, as always. He was such a master at feigning stupidity that you could forget he was sly as a fox.

“Rick and Martha.”

“ _Rick and Morty?_ ” Klaus squealed with delight.

“Rick and _Martha_ ,” The Handler corrected, a little amused.

“Oh _no_ ,” he whined, disappointed, “I would have loved to get killed by those two... Do you know when?”

“I can’t tell you that. But soon.”

“Mm, maybe I should catch up on my reading then,” he murmured.

“Klaus.”

“What? I don’t want to die before I know the end of One Piece!”

“ _Klaus_.”

“Yeah?”

“Will you consider joining us?”

Klaus lost his smile and looked at The Handler with a hint of pity. “Baby, no, you know I’ll never do that.”

“Please, Klaus. Please.”

He shook his head no. “I’ll give you my life, babe, but I won’t give you my soul.”

“Will you stop with that?” she snapped. “You know I have a soul. _Join us_.”

“That’s still a no,” he declined.

He went back to the drug on his coffee table while The Handler was struggling with her own desperation.

“I’ll – Klaus, I’ll give you a child.”

Klaus suddenly raised his head and got up again.

“What the _fuck_ did you just say to me?!” he asked, scandalized.

He looked angry and The Handler had no idea why. She repeated herself nonetheless.

“I’ll give you a child. Or children, if you want more?”

“I can’t _believe_ you!”

“I’m serious, I’ll do it.”

“You’re serious? You’re _serious!_ You’re…”

“What, Klaus?”

“You’re such an _evil bitch!_ ” he accused furiously.

“What did you just say!?” she gasped, offended.

“I can’t believe it! I’ve been asking you for _years!_ ”

The Handler crossed her arms, like it would protect her from this blame.

“Well, now I’m agreeing,” she sighed.

“Oh, _now_ you’re agreeing?!” Klaus repeated, fuming with rage. “You’re agreeing now to make me join the Commission!”

“So, what? You did the same for your side!”

The furniture near The Handler banged against the wall as Klaus shouted, “Handler, no! Shut the fuck up, like, right now! I never _once_ wanted a child to make you join us!”

“Didn’t you, though?!” she retorted.

“No! Never! Not once!”

“Then why did you?!”

“Because I _wanted_ to!”

“Well, what’s the problem, then?” asked The Handler, “I want it, too.”

“The problem is, you _sociopath_ , that you’re asking me to kill my siblings and the _whole world_ for that child! _Fuck_ you! This is the worst thing you ever did to me.”

Klaus feverishly went back to gathering his revolting powder into a line, but failed because his hands were shaking of wrath.

“No, Klaus, I’m offering this because I…”

The Handler stopped.

“You can’t even say it,” he mocked.

She glared at him angrily. Klaus suffered that glare and laughed darkly, “You’re offering me a child and you can’t even say you love me.”

“Like you don’t know,” snarled The Handler.

“Oh, I know you. I know you don’t, or else you’d never have left.”

“You said no matter what,” she reminded him.

“Well that involves my feelings, not yours.”

“You said _no matter what_. Just join us, Klaus!”

“No, Handler, you’re not gonna handle this news very well, but I am _never_ joining your side. Never. Not happening. I used to love you because you _didn’t_ try to handle me.”

The Handler received these words like a slap in the face.

“You _used_ to?” she repeated, incredulous. “Hell… why am I even there?”

“Just leave then,” Klaus retorted, “That’s your specialty.”

“I can’t believe this is happening… You said _no matter_ _what_.”

“What do you want from me?” he asked, exasperated.

“Join us! Before it’s too late. Before you’re dead!”

“I don’t _care_ about dying,” Klaus snapped, “I never did, I never will. Even _I_ can’t kill myself, and it’s not for lack of trying, but freakin’ _God_ keeps bringing me back to life! And by the way, I’m not scared by Rick and Morty, they should be scared of _me!_ ”

“You said you didn’t want to leave me alone.”

The Handler looked about to cry. Klaus let out a deep sigh.

“Babe, I’m not giving you a child now.”

“Why not?”

“Because I’d rather have my monster of a _father_ fuck up this child than have him raised by the Commission! He’s gonna be used as a tool, as a _weapon_ , and he’ll never know what it’s like to roll around in the grass in the summer. He’ll never have free will, he’ll never have a _soul_.”

“Is that what you really think of me?” asked The Handler, “That I don’t have a soul?”

“Yes!” he barked, “Because you’re asking me to sacrifice _everything_ for you, but it never even crossed your mind to join us when you’ve got _nothing_ to lose!”

“I’d lose my life too!”

“No! You’d lose your _job_. Your position. That is not a life. I love my siblings, I’ll never kill any of them, not even to save my own life. You say you love me, or rather, you _don’t_ , you can’t, because you’re not ready to sacrifice your _career_ to save my life.”

“Klaus, the Commission _raised_ me, they’re my family too. I can’t betray them, I _owe_ them.”

“That is the most fucked up thing I ever heard,” Klaus retorted, “God, even _Luther_ has more sense than you. Get the fuck out! Right now!”

“You want me to leave?”

“Yes! You’re gonna anyway, so just go back to hell!”

The Handler did as Klaus asked before he even finished his sentence.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please leave kudos and comments <3 I'd love some feedback


	17. Chapter 17

** And the lord said unto John: come forth and you will receive eternal life; but John came fifth and won a toaster. **

 

So apparently, Klaus was right. Rick and Martha suffered a dreadful death. So The Handler signed the contract that sent more men after him. One came back, but with a message deeply carved on his hand that said “ _join me baby_ ”. This was getting ridiculous.

 

\- 2018 -

 

When she appeared, Klaus was about to take a bath. The Handler, who hadn't expected that, watched silently as he checked the water's temperature before turning off the tap. He was covered in blood. Literally. Fresh blood, too, and way too much for it to be his own. It was impossible to see if Klaus was injured underneath all of it, but judging by the way he easily took off what was left of his shirt, he was fine. It confirmed her suspicion that Number Six had been present during his assassination attempt. The survivor gave her a resignation letter for only report, imploring the Commission to let him go before the _~~freakmonster~~ abomination _came looking for him. The Handler had seen the gruesome tentacles, she knew Ben himself was terrified of them, so she believed it was, in fact, a most accurate description of what had happened. Klaus got lucky and survived once more. Chances were, he didn't even try that hard.

“For a guy with no regard for his own life, you sure are quite difficult to kill,” she sighed.

Klaus swiftly turned around to find her sitting on the bathroom sink. His surprise didn't last long. Soon, he smirked, “Came here to join, or to get your hands dirty?”

He kept undressing under The Handler’s eyes. She was quite entranced by that sight when she hummed, “Depends what kind of dirt on my hands.”

Klaus' belt slipped from his hands and fell to the floor. The buckle hit the tiles with a loud noise, and left The Handler's former lover with his cargo pants precariously hanging around his hips.

“Baby,” he whispered, incredulous, “did you come to _handle_ me?”

It took a lot from The Handler not to break eye contact while Klaus unbuttoned and discarded his last remaining piece of clothing.

“It depends on the end of that conversation,” she smiled.

Klaus laughed and got in the water that soon colored a dark shade of red. “You know, if you didn’t get me to join with a baby, I won’t join for sex. Even though it’s _very_ convincing handling.”

The Handler didn't reply. She watched him plunge his head underwater for a few seconds. When he got out, his hair was dripping diluted blood, and it was a bit concerning, even to her, that she had never felt more compelled to his every whim than in this moment. How could he be so _alive_? It was so unfair. This man had been a stillborn baby, he lived with ghosts, where in the hell did he draw all this life force from? Since the day she had met him, it was like Klaus became more and more alive with every time he grazed death. And now he could bathe in scarlet water and it would only make his playful, emerald eyes glow brighter. 

“Care to join?” he invited with a cheeky smile.

This, The Handler thought, was very convincing handling. She had already removed one of her shoes when Klaus interrupted her, “What are you doing? I never meant in the bath, you _perv!_ ”

That got her so instantly furious, she threw her shoe at him. Klaus didn’t think to duck soon enough and got hit in the head. Both of them were surprised, unused to the pact neither stopping or deviating her movements anymore. Oh, after all those years, the smacking sound of that collision was nothing but pure satisfaction in The Handler's ears.

“Ow!” Klaus yelped then chuckled, “Well, since you’re asking so nicely, _please_ , do come in…”

She glared at him while she unbuttoned her dress under his very pleased eyes.

“Damn, I missed you,” he sighed.

“I missed you too.”

The Handler wondered if she had whispered too low for him to hear over the ruffling of her clothes and the water lapping in the bathtub, because Klaus had no reaction to that. Instead, he started humming as he fiddled with the red shoe floating in his crimson sea. The Handler blinked. She could almost see it. Eight-year-old Klaus secretly playing with his mother's heels like his brothers did with boats in the bath. Just to think of the severe beating he probably had received for it made The Handler long to destroy that unrecoverable human civilization. She still had no idea where Sir Reginald Hargreeves was, though, and she would soon make it her life mission to find and slaughter that despicable man herself. 

“Hey, I meant to ask you a question,” Klaus interrupted her track of thought.

“I’m listening.”

“Did you get my two last boyfriends killed?” he asked nonchalantly. “Because they disappeared quite mysteriously.”

The Handler stopped her movements for a second. She may have done that, yes. But he didn’t need to know that.

“Maybe you’re not as good a lay as you think, dear,” she teased, feigning innocence.

Klaus' lips twisted into a lopsided smile. “I’ll summon and ask them, then.”

The Handler didn’t worry. The snipers who did it were very discreet and those pricks probably never saw the shot coming. She got in the bath and Klaus certainly didn’t miss a second of that.

“You know you’re the craziest ex I ever had,” he admitted fondly.

“You made me who I am.”

She let out a contented sigh as she laid back on the opposite side from him. Klaus smirk only grew. “Mm, so it’s quite the contrary to being a bad lay, then.”

“I meant the _ex_ part,” she corrected on a light tone.

“Baby, you’re the one who left,” he breathed, softly brushing her thigh.

“Last time I checked, you were the one who told me to go, Klaus.”

“Yes, but I left you a message,” he gave her a cute grin.

The Handler was very much enjoying that bath. The hot water was little part of it, though. It had more to do with Klaus’ hands caressing her.

“Yes, I’ve seen Harry’s hand,” she sighed. “He told me you did it with a shard from his glasses.”

“Well it’s not my fault his hands were too small for his knife.”

“You could get me killed for a message like that, Klaus.”

Klaus tugged on her leg and The Handler felt an invisible force gently push her hips towards him. The water splashed around, but hell, the bathroom was already a bloody mess anyway.

“Do they know who _baby_ is?” he asked.

“They know it was meant for someone, and I’m suspect number one.”

Klaus tenderly kissed the inner side of her knee. “Now, why would your _family_ want ever to kill you? Mine never cared about you and I.”

“Klaus, are you trying to get me kicked out of the Commission?” she accused, narrowing suspicious eyes at him.

“No, I’m only trying to survive all the assassins you send after me. By the way, did you pick the lamest ones on purpose?”

The Handler rolled her eyes at such a ridiculous idea. “You know I’d never do that.”

“Good. That means it’s gonna be goddamn easy defeating the Commission.”

“You certainly got cocky since you got your new powers,” she jested.

Klaus bit the spot he had just kissed. “You should join us, baby,” he said.

“And why would I suddenly change my mind?”

“Because soon they’ll ask _you_ to kill me.”

That was true. The Handler had already realized that.

“I’ll do it, then,” she shrugged, looking away so she could keep unaffected.

Klaus bit her harder. “You think you can do it?” he wondered, his lips against her skin.

The Handler laid her head back against the bathtub and closed her eyes.

“Well,” she sighed, “I signed the contract for your assassination so I certainly can.”

“No, I mean you think you _can_ do it?” he taunted.

“You’ve known me as a powerless woman but I’m very deadly, Klaus. I’d simply have to stop time and redirect a bullet to your skull. No one would even know I’d been there.”

“Sure, but how many times will you have to do that until you get that God wants me to live until I stop the Apocalypse?”

That got The Handler to open her eyes and look at him again. She hated it when he lied.

“You’re still sticking to that story, Klaus? It’s getting really old.”

“Hey baby,” Klaus replied sweetly, “would you do me a favor and get your head out of your ass for a second? Look at me.”

“I’m looking at you, Klaus, and I still don’t believe a word you say.”

“Look at me,” he repeated, dead-yet-very-not-dead serious.

Then it appeared to The Handler that the blood covering Klaus was his own. The colored water splashed the ground again as she suddenly rushed on top of him to touch the fresh scars on his torso. He let her feel the tenderness of the recently abused flesh. This was unbelievable. They could never have the technology to heal such fatal injuries. This was…

This was _biblical_ , she realized, as her fingers went in the depth of the wound that had punctured his ribs. This man was _immortal_. This dripping, blood-covered man was the picture of immortality. Peaceful as none had ever been. So easy-going, uncaring for superficial matters like virility, sexual identity or orientation. Things were so simple. There were clothes, there was sex, there were people. The rest was ornamental. Even pain. Even death.

And there such a miracle laid, before her very eyes, naked and relaxed like the man who feared _nothing_ , because the only thing he was actually scared of couldn’t be shut out without a fatal overdose which he could never die from.

She was with a man whose death could only be caused by the Apocalypse, and she was the one in charge of making it happen. The Handler was petrified, terrified, horrified. Her mission was doomed. Yet, she couldn’t stop feeling _grateful_. Fucking glad and relieved and bloody _grateful_ for that God who spared his life, for she could now feel the glorious warmth of their intricate bodies.

“You know we should fuck now before you die,” he murmured, the same thought crossing his mind. “Ghost sex, it’s never the same.”

So that was why he didn’t fear her death either. She could never be his weak point, he could only be hers. She thought of their first game of chess as he started tenderly kissing her neck. Apparently, he did too, as he smiled against her skin and chuckled:

“Checkmate.”

It happened.

It was never meant to happen. It never had before. Yet it really happened.

It _happened_.

The Handler’s hands slowly rose to Klaus’ face. She looked at him intently, taking in all that was before her eyes, his messy hair, his playful eyes, his winning smile… She could see and feel his lips moving under her fingers when he asked her:

“So do I get a baby now?”

First, she joined his laughter, and it really felt more like crying.

Then, she joined his lips, in the most desperate, hungry way.

Right after, she joined his body and soul, and needless to say, there was little water left in the tub when she was done with him.

But most and foremost, she joined him like she had never done before. She joined his side.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tell me in the comments if you liked this chapter! It might influence the way I rewrite the next ones :)


	18. Chapter 18

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another interlude! This one's a flash-back, it happens four months before the Handler leaves the Academy. I re-read ‘You know nothing, Klaus Snow’ and realized I don't know how to count and forgot the Fourth Time the Handler was attacked. So I wrote an extra chapter about it. I know the events should happen before 2009, but in my defense, I’m a very lazy person.  
> So yeah, I have no excuse.

**May the Fourth be with you**

 

There was a cat at the Academy. There wasn’t before, but one night, Vanya heard a scrawny kitten wail in the garden, and because Five had himself been starved most of his sorry life, he accepted to jump and fetch it one can of tuna, _once_. Of course, the famished little thing started to follow him around, pestering him for more food ever since. Five would jump and jump but that furry demon could always somehow smell where he went. He kept his resolve and never fed it again. He specifically forbid Vanya to do it. If he wanted to suffer from constant teary eyes and asthma, he’d just jump back to the Apocalypse. That cat would find _another_ family, he repeated. Because Vanya had, ironically, great difficulties _listening_ , she secretly left the porch light on and three days later, Five found an empty can of tuna and an annoying white kitten waiting on the doorstep.

It camped in front of the house for a week until Klaus, who had no respect for Five’s allergies, opened the door for stray little cat. It seemed that the kitten was itself allergic to Klaus, as it kept running away from him, but the barmy man still found ways to submit it into cuddles. Despite his best efforts, he never got it to sleep in his room, but the funniest part was that the Handler never believed him as for said cat’s existence, to the point Klaus ended up assuming it was a ghost.

But it wasn’t.

Everyone in the house met the kitten but the Handler. Grace bought it proper food after Luther complained it had drunk his morning glass of milk and vomited in Allison’s closet. It usually ignored everyone, except to mess with them. At first it spent most of its days singing the song of its people in front of Reginald’s study where Five hid for dear life and never, not once, opened the door. When it finally got bored of doing that every day, it decided to look for its next victim. It found Ben reading in the library and proceeded to gnaw on the corner of his object of interest, to make him play with it. It didn’t work. The fool let go of the book and started _petting_ it instead, so the Cat bit the shit out of that insolent’s hands, and then there were tentacles and it was _awesome_ … for like five minutes, to which point Ben went back to reading. How disappointing. The Cat spent most of the afternoon perched on the man’s shoulder. It did not know how to read, so it nipped and clawed until tentacles surely would appear again, but instead, it got caught and banished from the library. It waited in front of the closed door for a while, but left to hide when it caught the scent of Klaus nearby. A few days later, the little cat was compelled by the distinctive smell of the cold-blooded to enter a room. Seeing there was a _human_ sleeping in there, and that it radiated heat, the kitten decided to taste the weird animal by licking its toe. Curiosity almost killed the Cat, but ever since, its sole life purpose had been hiding inside, under or on top of furniture and waiting for the right moment to attack Diego.

How the Handler and the Cat had never been in the same room, it was a mystery to them all, but there was a general agreement that the Cat contained at least half of the Handler’s soul and their meeting might either prevent or instantly trigger the Apocalypse.

 

\- 2012 -

_Four months before the end of the Pact_

 

You might have noticed, when the Handler told the different times she was attacked, that she missed the fourth. The narrator, suffering from a light but persistent dyscalculia, certainly didn’t. It wasn’t something the Handler would forget, either. So let’s just say it just didn’t fit in the long list of Things Klaus Knew Nothing About.

Because the Fourth Time something weird happened, he was the one who saved her.

It was the Hargreeves second twenty-third birthday and they chose to celebrate in a bar. It was going on surprisingly well. Number One was dilapidating his inheritance in drinks, which made Wendy the waitress very flirtatious until she noticed the deadly glare Allison Hargreeves, the _movie star_ , directed at her. Instead, she got more and more interested in the one they called Five. He was an hilariously grumpy man. She asked how old was the birthday boy when he came to refill their drinks and he replied _sixty-six_ with the most serious face. Wendy laughed out loud and gave him a beer on the house, but as she was about to ask for his number, in a blink of an eye, he was already sitting at his siblings’ table on the other side of the room. That was weird, but hey, she had other customers to serve.

“How come they never hit on _us_?” pondered Ben, staring at Wendy who occasionally sent glances their way. “Is celibacy the new afterlife now? I’m not even joking. We might be ghosts to her, bro.”

“Talk for yourself,” snickered Diego. “I already hit that last time around, not gonna make the same mistake twice.”

“Diego,” breathed incredulously Vanya, “is this the night you meet Patch?”

“Sure is, baby,” he smiled fondly at her, taking a sip of his beer while royally ignoring Five’s dirty glare.

Vanya started purring contentedly and it seemed to cheer everyone in the bar.

“I want to meet her!” squealed Allison.

“I will slash your throat myself,” warned Diego, with no indication on his face as to whether he was joking or not.

“So much _violence_ in this family,” sighed Ben. “I wonder who we would be now if the old sociopath hadn’t adopted us.”

They all thought about that for a moment.

“Well, I’d still be a freak,” he concluded, brooding a little.

“I’d finally be rid of you guys,” whispered Five with dreamy eyes.

“I’d be ruling the world,” realized Allison in amazement.

“Not if I ruled it first,” retorted Vanya.

“Please!” scoffed her sister. “I’d just have to _rumor_ you.”

“Well you could try, but we both know how that went last time,” hummed Vanya, her eyes flashing blue for a second.

“Do you guys have to make jokes about it all the time?” groaned Luther. “It’s been like ten years and it’s _still_ not funny.”

“You’re the only one who gets upset over it,” chuckled Allison before asking Diego, “What about you? Where would you be?”

“Dead in a pit, probably,” he shrugged, then pointed at Luther, “But our precious Number One here would be the same, I’m still not sure he ever was adopted.”

“ _Savage_ ,” whistled Five, impressed, while Ben fist-bumped their smug brother.

“Why are you always so _mean_?” scowled Luther.

“Don’t worry, sweetie,” consoled Allison, “that’s how he shows _love_.”

Diego’s eyes encountered Vanya’s for a quick instant. The next, he met the murdering look on Five’s face and offered him a mocking smirk.

“Well could you like me a little less?” asked Luther at Diego’s attention.

“Oh, Moon Boy… Whatever rumor you may hear, rest assured that _I never liked you_.”

Luther turned to his girlfriend and told her, “See? He’s just a prick.”

“He really is,” agreed Allison as she sent a scowl Diego’s way. “He’s just jealous because Dad liked you better.”

Their brother snickered, “I’m not jealous, I’m just saying there must be a good reason for it.”

“Do you seriously think he wasn’t adopted?” asked Ben, amused at that idea.

“He’s got powers,” Allison rolled her eyes, “Of course he was _adopted_.”

Klaus joined them at the table at that very moment. He looked pretty smashed, but Vanya, who kept count of everyone’s drinks, knew he was only a little tipsy. He could have fooled anyone, though, with his synthetic flower crown crookedly hanging on his head. It didn’t help that he had scarlet smudges on his lips. It helped even less that he was wearing a white tank top that proudly displayed a ‘majestically pansexual’ rainbow unicorn which did little to cover the trail of the Handler’s kisses under his collarbone. Klaus had the barmy smile of a child with no care in the world when he quipped, “Who’s adopted?”

“You,” gibed Five.

“Alright, Big Five, I don’t want to ruin your childhood any more than our delight of a daddy already did, but we’re _all_ adopted.”

“Yes, but you _more_.”

“Is this about the chocolate again?” smirked Klaus. “I _told you_ you wouldn’t like it.”

“You didn’t tell me why!” snapped Five, as his siblings started laughing at him. “Why would you even _buy_ this stuff? I took three bites of it and I’m still feeling all paranoid!”

“Mm, seeing that it happened over a week ago, you might want to consider the possibility that those are two completely unrelated matters.”

Five stared pointedly at Vanya, silently asking her to help him make Klaus’ nonsense stop. She played with her cocktail’s straw and replied, “Hey, don’t look at me. Ten years I’ve been telling you to see someone.”

“It’s not paranoia when it’s _true,_ ” repeated Five for maybe the hundredth time of their lives.

“Yeah, right,” snorted Allison.

“Because you’re always right,” ironized Diego.

“I _am_ always right,” gritted Five, barely containing his irritation despite Vanya’s soothing humming. They all made fun of him, so he crossed his arms and reminded, “I was right about the Apocalypse, but you _useless morons_ didn’t listen to me and that’s why it _happened._ ”

“I think we can all agree your wife is responsible for that one,” replied Luther, gently rubbing his thumb on Allison’s hand, whose eyes still lost their spark at any mention of the event that killed her daughter.

“I’ll gladly share half of the credit with you, Luther,” quipped Vanya on a light tone.

Ben remarked carelessly, “You know, if the Handler was there, she’d take offense in you all stealing credit for her life’s work.”

“Yeah, by the by, where’s she?” wondered Klaus, looking around the bar and almost falling from his chair in the process.

“Don’t know, don’t care,” replied Vanya casually. “I’m still scarred from last time so I’m doing my best not to keep check on either of you tonight.”

“A wise decision,” approved Klaus, his lips twisting into an evil smile before he got up and patted her head, “Keep up the good work.”

“For how long?” she requested impatiently.

Klaus had already disappeared to the bar’s exit, leaving Vanya to cross her arms and brood.

“I thought you didn’t mind it anymore,” said Allison, sharing a quick concerned look with her boyfriend.

“Well, _your_ crazy monkey sex don’t get mixed up with _murder attempt_.”

“W-What?” babbled Luther.

“When?” questioned Five, like it was of outmost importance.

“Why?” asked Allison, not even sure if she wanted an answer except maybe from God, because oh, _why?_

“ _Which one?_ ” choired suspicious Ben and alarmed Diego.

“It’s not the Handler getting handled, obviously,” sighed Vanya. “Klaus wants her to kill him so she’ll finally believe him about God. He figured sex would do the trick.”

That’s about when Ben chose to stop listening, quite entranced by the pretty brunette serving beer at the counter instead.

“But that’s impossible,” Five contested with a frown. “She’s _bound_ to the pact, she can’t hurt him.”

“According to Klaus, it’s not hurting if he asks for it. He also said something about ‘making babies’ being the opposite of death so it cancels each other out? I don’t know, but from what I heard, he enjoys it a _lot_ more than she does. I’m starting to think this has nothing to do with proving a point. He _really_ gets off it, if you really want to know.”

He response was met with a few seconds of silence, until Luther whined, “I did _not_ want to know that.”

“Ben, did you know?” Allison asked her brother who had completely lost track of the conversation by watching the waitress from afar.

He blinked and replied, “About what?”

“About _Klaus_.”

“What about him?”

“He’s a _masochist_.”

“Yeah, I’m more surprised that you are, he’s always saying pain is the highroad to pleasure or whatever,” he shrugged, then noticed that Diego was groaning with his face buried in his hands, “What the… Are you _crying_ again?”

“Shut the fuck up,” he moaned miserably, “I’m trying not to _die inside_.”

“I think I just did,” breathed Five, white as a sheet.

“He used to be _so damn cute_ ,” murmured Diego, “He’d paint little animals on my knives so they would all feel special, when did he get so fucked up?”

“Oh,” realized Allison, “he did that on my nails too!”

“He really was the cutest of us,” hummed Vanya in agreement.

“The weirdest too,” sighed Five. “He’d lick all the marshmallows and put them back in the bag.”

“Oh, come on, he just wanted to kiss butterflies,” she smiled fondly at the memory.

“You mean, eat them?”

Vanya rolled her eyes, “It only happened _once._ ”

“Isn’t it enough? He always was a freak.”

“I agree,” nodded Luther, “when we were six he told me my G.I. Joe was haunted by a little Chinese boy who died making it. Yeah, as if _children_ made our toys...”

His siblings looked at each other for a few seconds, but Allison’s warning glare dissuaded them from correcting him.

“He also ate my homework pretending it made some French ghost scream,” Luther kept on, deep in his thoughts. “I don’t know if that one’s true, but I’m still sticking to ‘ _omelette du fromage_ ’.”

“He'd also smuggle comic books for us,” said Allison, decided on changing the subject. “I think there’s still hope. We fixed his stealing problem,” Ben scoffed at that, so she added, “ _mainly_. Last month he asked me before taking my stuff, and he actually gave it back on his own. He’s still a _sweetheart._ We can fix this too. Right, Vanya?”

“Mm, I don’t know what you think he borrowed your belt for, but you should burn it. Please. If not for the blood he cleaned off, do it for the rest.”

“ _Ewww!_ ” she whined as she hurried to take off her belt and throw it on the floor like a venomous snake. “Why would you even tell me that? You know it’s my favorite! Now I wish I never knew...”

“ _You_ asked, and I’ve done my share of suffering in silence. At least you don’t know the _details_. There’s no therapy for that kind of trauma, and even if there was, a _lifetime_ wouldn’t be enough.”

She raised her hand for Ben to high-five, who immediately did and praised, “ _Amen_ , sister!”

 

*

 

The Handler didn’t realize she had witnessed something she shouldn’t have until the two criminals had her cuffed to the broken lamppost of the tiny dark alley she had chosen to smoke her cigarette. It all happened in a few seconds. One of them told the other, “Kill her, take her, it’s not my problem,” and just like that he drove away and left her with his partner who looked in the middle of a terrible life crisis.

“You never did this before in your life, did you?” she mocked.

“Shut up,” he groaned, struggling with the tape roll and ending up hitting himself in the face.

“You know you should really let me go before you get hurt. He’s gone, he’ll never know. It’s not like I’m ever going to tell on you guys. Seriously, I was just having a smoke somewhere nobody would bother m–”

The young man interrupted her, “I’m not gonna spend the rest of my life waiting for the day you decide to tell the cops.”

“Why would I do that if you just let me go? I don’t know who you are. I don’t even care. I have no idea what I just saw but I can assure you, I’ve kept worse secrets. Besides, you’ll never be able to get away with kidnapping me. I already tried running away from the people I came with tonight. Seriously, there’s no escaping them.”

The man got out a knife and held it under her throat.

“You talk a lot for someone who says they’ll keep silent,” he groaned before gagging her with the tape. “I don’t want to do this but I don’t have a choice.”

The Handler rolled her eyes at that cliché line while the man kept checking all his pockets.

“ _Motherfucker_ ,” he breathed. “He left with the keys. Shit! This is… This is _bad_ , yo! It means I have to… I don’t have a choice.”

Where were the Hargreeves siblings? She’d been discreetly tapping her cuff against the lamppost for a moment now, didn’t Vanya notice she’d been spelling ‘SOS’ in morse code over and over?

“Stop that noise, it’s driving me crazy!”

The Handler stopped. Surely, one of them would appear soon. Any of them. Luther could punch that guy into oblivion. Ben would break his nose and tear him apart. Five would be an annoying ass and make a show out of it. Hopefully Diego would stab that guy before making fun of her. Who's to say how Vanya would react, but the Handler didn't care at this point. Allison would be her first choice. She'd be the most discreet, all things considered. The others would make a bloody mess, but she’d still welcome their help. From anyone, really, except…

And here he was, staggering their way. Even from the other side of the alley, he looked completely plastered.

“Hey, w-what’s happening here?” he wondered curiously.

“Mind your own business,” barked the man, sending a quick glance his way.

“But it’s my birthday,” replied Klaus, like it somehow changed anything. “You can’t be mean to me on my _birthday_. Let's be friends. My name's Klaus, what's yours?”

“Shut up, weirdo!”

Keeping his knife right under the Handler’s throat, the young man used his left hand to take out a gun from his back pocket. Klaus halted when he pointed it at him, “Wow! Calm down, my man.”

“Hands behind your head!” he commanded.

Klaus did as asked, but somehow, he looked like he was just stretching for the chill of it. Disturbing in itself, not to mention the fact that he was now _smiling_. That idiot was probably too tanked to get what was happening, the blond man thought. Klaus also kept looking at something behind his shoulder, but no criminal was dumb enough to fall for that trap. There was nothing behind him, nothing at all. He had enough on his hands holding one still and keeping the other at gunpoint not to worry about a drunk guy's hallucination creeping behind his shoulder. That Klaus guy’s face looked strangely familiar, though. Even more with each step he drunkenly took their way.

“I know you from somewhere,” he muttered, lowering his weapon a little.

“Well, I was told today I hold a strong resemblance to the Christ,” Klaus chuckled as he replaced his flower crown on his head, letting his wrist-tattoo peak for an instant.

“ _Jesus_ ,” the man breathed in realization. “You’re one of those Umbrella freaks!”

He pointed his gun back at Klaus, still holding his knife under the Handler’s throat. “Give me your fucking money, Hargreeves.”

“Bold of you to think I own anything in this world, my friend.”

“Don’t joke with me, _bitch_ ,” warned the guy. “I will _kill_ you.”

Klaus took another step forward to redirect the gun directly to his heart and held it still.

“Do it, then,” he smiled. “I doubt it’ll get you anywhere, but you’re always welcome to try.”

“I’m not kidding, I’ll _do it_ ,” claimed the man with slightly shaking hands.

“Then do it,” Klaus dared. “Shoot me _._ ”

“Shut _up_ ,” he gritted through his teeth.

“Come on, Jesse, just _do it_ ,” pressed Klaus with an insane spark in his eyes.

“How the _fuck_ do you know my name?!”

“I know everything, _bitch_ ,” purred sadistically Klaus, keeping it pointed at his heart with surprising strengh. “Aunt Ginny is so disappointed in you, Jesse… She bravely fought _cancer_ , and you, what did _you_ become? A _drop out_. And a dealer on top of that! If only you _applied yourself_ , but no, you’re not even a _good cook_. She’s so mad, Jesse, seriously, she’s so _furious_ at you for defiling her home. What’s the address again? Oh, yeah… 9809 Margo Street, Albuquerque.”

Jesse pulled the trigger and the detonation made the Handler shriek inside her mouth. Klaus let go of the firearm and fell on his knees, his hands covering his chest with a pained expression on his face. The Handler, overwhelmed with dread and fury, was already looking into the hundred ways she would _slaughter_ that scumbag of a dealer, but was suddenly stopped in that track of thought when Klaus whined, “Shiiiiit… you ruined my shirt!”

 _He really was immortal_ , the Handler believed in that moment. A short one, which soon came to an end when Klaus got up and it was clear the only damage he suffered from was a mild burn and, indeed, an unfortunate hole that pierced his favorite top.

“You couldn't even bother to tell me it wasn't a real gun?” he accused the shooter or, more precisely, some invisible person behind his shoulder. “Now look at this! And it was all for _nothing!_ ”

Klaus snatched the prop from his hand and threw it away. Jesse acted on instinct and got behind the Handler who struggled until he held the knife high enough for her to have to stand on the tip of her toes. Now she could only keep still or she’d lose her balance and die.

“Don’t move or I swear to God I’ll cut her fuckin’ throat,” Jesse warned.

“Do you even know _who_ she is?” sighed Klaus.

“I don’t give a shit!”

“You really should. I mean, your lifespan kinda depends on it.”

“She- She your mum or something?”

“Nah!” Klaus sniggered. “I’m not that kind of mo-fo. Besides, she’s _way_ too old to be my mother. I’d tell you her age, but I’m not sure you can count that high.”

Jesse caught the quick glance those two shot at each other and finally understood the situation. The Umbrella freak wasn’t randomly wandering by. Those two were _together_. He would never let him take her away. His only solution was to kill her and make a run for his life. He was about to do just that, when Klaus made a dismissive gesture that literally made Jesse’s knife fly and return against him.

“That was a very stupid move, Cap’n,” Klaus muttered darkly.

The Handler took the opportunity to viciously plant her elbow in his ribs and kick his knee. Jesse fell to the ground. To a stranger’s point of view, he might have looked like a guy holding a knife to his own throat, but the truth was, Jesse was really grabbing its handle to fight against the blade.

“W-What’s happening,” he babbled as he started levitating off the ground.

Klaus didn’t pay him any attention and went to check on the Handler, looking carefully for injuries. There were only little cuts under her face and bruises on her wrists from struggling against her cuffs, but it was enough for his jaw to tighten. He deposited a tender kiss on her covered mouth, then murmured, “It’s gonna hurt a bit.”

He tore the tape off in a quick move.

“What took you so long?!” immediately snapped the Handler.

“Hey! Don’t scream at me. It’s not _my_ fault Vanya doesn’t want to hear us anymore.”

“ _You_ asked for it!” she reminded, scandalized by his denial.

“Yes, but _you_ did it,” he smirked, then sealed her lips with a kiss before she could reply. “You’re _welcome_ , by the way.”

Klaus left her to find the terrified dealer who whimpered a little when he kneeled beside him.

“The key,” he demanded.

“I- I- I don’t have it,” stammered Jesse.

Klaus grabbed his collar and threatened, “Well you better find it, _bitch_ , ‘cause tonight’s my flippin’ _birthday_ and I’d like the old lady over there to fuck me to death before my sister can hear about it.”

“Not happening, Klaus,” scoffed the Handler.

He turned towards her with utter shock on his face. “What? Why not? It’s my _birthday!_ ”

“I’m sorry, did you just mistake me with someone who gives a damn?”

“Hey! I’m not setting you free if you keep acting like an animal,” he warned seriously. “What got you all wild and savage? Is this about you being older than my Mom?”

“In case you didn’t notice, so are _you_.”

“Yeah, _old_ news, but you’ll have to admit: not as old as you.”

“You don’t even _know_ my age, Klaus,” she sighed, exasperated.

“Well, I’m pretty sure your birth certificate’s long expired, isn’t it?” he retorted, rolling his eyes.

“Oh, for the love of… Just get killed already. See if your made-up god is wooed with how much of an ass you are, because it’s _impressive_.”

“No, what’s _impressive_ is that you _still_ don’t believe in God when you’re probably old enough to be _her_ mother!”

The Handler gasped at the insult, then gritted furiously, “Klaus, I am _not_ that old. You’re the one who looks ridiculously young!”

“Babe, I literally don’t care. I’m thirty-nine, you’re like a _billion_. Get over it.”

On that, Klaus turned back his eyes to whimpering Jesse.

“I seriously can’t wait for that pact to be over,” the Handler told his back. “Four more months and you’ll never see my face again.”

“Yeah, yeah, like you need that to be _ancient_ history,” he muttered under his breath.

“You’re an idiot,” she groaned. “You know, that's exactly why I'm never giving you a child. Half of my genes could never be enough to prevent it from ending just like you.”

Klaus instantly let go of Jesse who fell flat on the ground and took a step towards his cuffed lover again. “Oh, you mean _fabulous_? You better hope it’ll be like me, I’m a _genius_.”

“Really? Please tell me more about your supposedly massive intellect while the criminal runs away.”

The ghost-whispered checked behind him. Jesse had, indeed, taken the opportunity to try an escape. Klaus groaned and used his powers to levitate the runner back to him. He greeted him with a falsely cheerful tone, “Hey-hey-hey, whatcha doing my man? You’re staying with me, I want that key.”

“I don’t have it I swear!”

“Klaus,” tried the Handler in the background.

“Oh, Cap’n, my Cap’n… If you don’t give it to me, I will look for it myself and trust me, I know my way around your secret hiding places.”

“I swear to God, I don’t have it, man! I’m-I’m sorry, I can’t help you!”

“Klaus!” the Handler tried again.

“Oh, you’re _sorry_ now?” Klaus snickered somberly. “We’ll see how sorry you can get once I’m finished with you…”

“Please, _please_ don’t kill me,” he pleaded.

“Oh, but it’s not _death_ you should fear with me, it’s all the nasty, vicious things that precedes it…”

The Handler whistled and called loudly: “Hey, _fruitcake!_ ”

“Babe, I’m _busy_ now,” Klaus gritted, “can I ignore your abuse another time?”

“He’s telling the truth, _moron_. His partner has it.”

Klaus blinked at her, then looked back at the man who was nodding desperately. He sighed, “Well you couldn’t say that sooner, could you?”

The Handler rolled her eyes at him while Jesse squeaked, “Can I _please_ go now?”

Klaus chuckled, “No, no, Jesse… Did you forget? It’s _my birthday_ , and you’re my _present_. You don’t want to miss the party, do you?”

“Either kill him or let him go, Klaus, but do get on with it,” sighed the Handler.

“Don’t listen to her, sweet thing, we’ve got _all night_. It’s gonna be great, you’ll s-”

“Klaus, I am _not_ staying here all night.”

“Will you shut up?” he snapped at the Handler. “You’re ruining my moment.”

The Handler rolled her eyes again, and Klaus went back to tormenting Jesse.

“Now, where were we? Ah! _Yes_. All the ways I’m gonna make you regret ever meeting me…”

“Do _I_ get to go if I already regret meeting you?” cut in the Handler.

Klaus scowled and gave the finger in her general direction without tearing his eyes off Jesse’s terrified face. He was about to talk again when she interrupted once more, “If you really need to keep talking, as I doubt it’ll be smart, could you at least make it quick? I distinctively remember getting bigger thrills watching plants grow.”

“For Christ’s sake,” muttered Klaus, throwing Jesse to the ground and turning back to the Handler. “What the fuck is your problem? I’m defending your honor, here!”

She impatiently squirmed against her cuffs as she replied, “Then find a way to set me free and let me kill him myself, I’ll do it _better_.”

“No! No way, it’s _my_ birthday!”

“No one cares about your goddamn birthday, Klaus,” she spat. “Now we both know how that’s gonna end, just _let him_ _go_.”

He got up and swayed his arms, maddened. “Oh, _now_ you want to spare a life! What about _mine_?”

“I don’t care about your stupid life either,” she snarled. “I doubt you’ll live long enough to see the Apocalypse anyway. You’ll probably die making out with a wall plug.”

“You hear that?” Klaus asked Jesse as his witness. “She’s got no respect for me whatsoever. And it’s _my birthday_. Un-freakin’-believable.” He turned back to the Handler, “Do you have some specific Alien-zheimer that only targets God-related topics? How many times do I have to tell you? She’ll _bring me back_. If you don’t believe in Her, could you at least, _please_ , believe _me_?”

“You _are_ my actual proof for God’s inexistence, Klaus. You’re just too big of a mistake.”

“Alright, that’s _it_ ,” declared Klaus before commanding Jesse, “Don’t move. You’re still my _bitch_ until I say otherwise.”

He searched the abductor’s pockets for the tape roll then went over to muzzle her again.

She shook her head, “No-no, Klaus, don’t your _dare!_ ”

“Oh, yes, yes,” he nodded and smiled, effectively silencing her, “I’m sorry, but _yes_. It’ll do you some good to let me handle things for once.”

Klaus grabbed each side of her face and loudly kissed her taped mouth again. He contemplated proudly his work while she scowled at him, lips shut. “איך בין לאַווינג דאָס אַזוי עס ס גאַנאַ פּאַסירן ווידער” he whispered.

The Handler scowled and kicked his foot. He chuckled and walked back to Jesse, stretching his body as he would after a nap.

“Aaaah, _finally_ , am I right? I mean, I usually love when she’s insulting me and all, it totally covers up the _other_ voices… but I need some quiet when _I’m_ talking.”

“You-you gonna kill me now?”

Klaus shook his head, “Nah, I’d rather make sure I never see your face again.”

“I don’t get shit of what’cha saying, yo!”

“To be blunt, I don’t like you all that much,” Klaus smiled and slightly cocked his head to the side.

“I- I didn’t even do anything to her, man! My partner did it, he’s got the key, I-”

“You mean you didn’t _just_ try to kill her?”

“I got no choice, man! She saw some shit, I was just following orders! I-I never even killed anybody in my life!”

“I know how much of a virgin you are, Jesse. Why do you think I waited until you tried? You disappointed me, just like you did aunt Ginny…”

“I- I panicked, okay? I lost my shit or something!”

“Oh, you’re gonna lose your shit alright… Alright, let’s play a game.”

“What? N-No, I don’t want to.”

“Come on, it’s my _birthday_. You gotta play with me.”

On this, Klaus presented his closed fists to the trembling man.

“Choose one,” he ordered.

Jesse pointed randomly at one with his eyes shut, expecting a violent but hopefully quick death.

“ _Ouch_ … I wouldn’t have picked this one,” winced Klaus.

As nothing happened, Jesse opened his lids, and looked at the ‘HELLO’ tattoo inside the man’s palm.

“This-This means I live, right?” he asked, unsure this was good news.

“Aye-aye, Cap’n,” Klaus nodded, and revealed his other palm. “‘Goodbye’ means I bring you to the afterlife,” he pressed the chosen hand to Jesse’s forehead as he concluded, “‘Hello’ means I bring the afterlife to _you_.”

Suddenly, the whole alley went pitch-black and started to spin, like the worst kind of bad trip. There were dreadful people screeching, attacking them from everywhere. Klaus didn’t seem to mind, smiling sadistically while Jesse shrieked from the bottom of his lungs. The Handler looked all around her in shock, a little terrified herself.

“Stop it!” screamed Jesse. “Please, _please_ , make it stop!”

“No, Jesse, first you need to take a good look around you, because _this_ is where you’ll belong if you don’t get you shit together. _This_ is what happens to people who ‘ _lose it’_. You want that to happen to you?”

“No! No, _please_ , no!”

“Then whatcha gonna do about it?”

“I’ll be better, I swear!”

“You swear?”

“I swear! I’ll do whatever you want me to do!”

“You really swear?”

“I swear on my life, man! Just let me go!”

“Remember, Jesse, you swore thrice,” warned Klaus as he released the crying man’s forehead.

The ghosts disappeared and Jesse ran away faster than if he’d been chased by heavily armed cops. All he left behind was a puddle of pee on the spot he’d been standing. Klaus chuckled at that, and went to the Handler.

“See? I handled it just fine.”

He took off her tape and used it to cover the hole in his shirt.

“Stop trying to get yourself killed, Klaus. This is ridiculous and I’m not doing it.”

“What? But we made a pact!”

“I don’t care. I don’t have my powers, I’m not bound to anything.”

“Yeah you are! You _promised_.”

“No-no, _you_ promised to stop talking about babies, I never agreed to the part where _you die_.”

Klaus stamped his foot and whined, “But you’ll never believe me unless you see it for yourself!”

“Of course I don’t believe you,” the Handler retorted, “You can dress up as the Christ all you like, that won’t bring you back to life!”

“You know what, fuck this. You’re mean, it’s my birthday, you don’t want to bang me to death, then I’m getting a baby.”

She scoffed at that, “Oh, you could try…”

“I will try! I’m _trying_. What do you think I’ve been doing all these years? Knitting? Wait, I _do_ a lot of that too, don’t I?”

Klaus furrowed his eyebrows and absentmindedly scratched his cheek, deeply lost in his thoughts, then hiccupped a little.

“You’re completely drunk!” the Handler realized, furious.

“Yeah... but don’t worry, we’ll tell it it was made _in bistro_ , I’m sure it’ll be okay.”

“Klaus, get me out of these cuffs immediately.”

“Why?” he taunted, “You finally gonna _kill me_?”

“Is annoying me your new tactic to give me motive? Because I don’t need it. I can’t screw you to death, the pact is loud and clear: it’s _not happening_.”

“You didn’t even try!”

“I _did_ try! Believe me, I’ve already done my best! As much as I’d _love_ to, _I can’t_.”

“Then how about you let me handle it, then?”

“I am not watching you get killed, Klaus, that’s out of the question!”

“No, I mean, the _banging_.”

The Handler looked at him with wide eyes for a second, then mocked, “Once again, I’d love to see you try.”

“So that’s a yes? ‘Cause there’s no turning back.”

“You mean _now_? Like that? _Hell_ no! What is _wrong_ with you?”

“Babe, we don’t have time for that kind of chit-chat, four months couldn’t be enough… Hey, wait a minute! You seriously think I can’t _handle_ you, even at home?”

“You can’t even handle a little booze, Klaus. You certainly can’t handle me. Least of all a _baby_.”

“I can handle any of those things, easily! You’re the one who never lets me handle anything. You didn’t think I could handle Cap’n Prick but I did it, didn’t I?”

“Klaus, listen to me. We’re in a dark alley, I’m cuffed to a lamppost, you look like a _goddamn_ _tramp_ , we’re going to get caught and I don’t want to explain why I fuck _queerasshomo Jesus!_ ”

He gasped at the insult, and replied with a hand to his chest, “Insult Jesus all you want, but do _not_ denigrate the queers, we will bite your lovely ass! You know what? I’ll fuck you until you’ll become one of us, I’m not even joking.”

“Well, if your sister didn’t get me to join,” snickered the Handler, thinking back to the first time she met Vanya and she still wasn’t completely sure the Apocalypse-bearer hadn’t been trying to seduce her when taking her hand that day.

“What? Which one?” he asked, a little alarmed.

“I’m _never_ telling you that,” she smirked.

“You’re a _monster_ ,” he snatched the tape on his shirt and put it back on her mouth. “You are not getting custody of the Cat, you’re too evil. It’s my _birthday_ , we said I’d either die or get a baby, now let _me_ fuck _you_ to any of those ends.”

Klaus tried his best that night. How she still ended up doing all the fucking was seriously beyond him.

 

 *

 

They got arrested for public fornication, obviously. The police almost shot Klaus on the spot. Despite his best provocations, they never did.

While Ben had gone to great length to keep Klaus clean all those years, Diego had tried to do the same for his criminal record, but he couldn’t do much about the offenses that occurred before their time-traveling. It was a shame, really, that they didn’t land a few months earlier. Well, thirteen-year-old Klaus had only gotten in trouble with the law twice. The first time, for stealing candy in a movie theater and being a complete dick to the manager who busted him, until he actually _stapled_ the guy’s hand. The second time was approximately two hours later, when he got bored of waiting for Pogo to pick him up and decided to light a joint he had smuggled, while he was still _in his cell_. Diego learned later that the cop who found Klaus was Eudora’s father. The retired cop once recounted that anecdote during family dinner, and it had been mortifying, not only because Klaus had told his siblings _the_ _exact same story_ and none of them had believed him, but worse yet, Mr. Patch had referred to Klaus as his “personal hero” and, completely unaware that he was talking about Diego’s adoptive brother, described in details the fair beating the teenage jackass received that day. Though he didn’t quit police academy until two years later, Diego knew that story had been the first strike on his resolve to become a cop. It might also be one of the reasons why he tended to cut his daftest brother a break.

So yeah, all that to say, Diego accepted to take a raincheck on his first night with Eudora to bail them out. It was only a bonus that she thought the good brother act was hot.

However, once he arrived at the police station and saw the two of them, looking absolutely ravished, and still publicly fighting from opposite cells, Diego couldn't help but ask, “How could this ever happen?”

There were three different sides of that story, but apparently, when the policemen had asked the Handler if she wanted to press charges, Klaus had laughed at that ridiculous idea. Until she said yes and went with them, leaving him gaping and dumbfounded.

Sadly, as sympathetic as they were for her case, the police did not agree to take her complaint for complete idiocy.

 

 *

 

“Just tell me which one,” insisted Klaus, buckling his seat belt.

The Handler smirked as she did the same, “I’m not telling you anything.”

“Is it Vanya? She has such a bi-vibe sometimes, it’s totally her. No, it’s too _obvious_ , it _must_ be it’s Allison. It’s her, isn’t it? No, it can’t be… Unless it is! Damn it, babe! You’re throwing me off my radar here!”

“Klaus, listen to me. You’re getting ridiculously worked up over nothing, _again_. This is just like the cat: in the end, you’ll never know.”

“What about the Cat?” piped in Diego, taking a peak at them through the inner rear mirror.

“Really, Klaus? Of all the people you’d put up to it, you picked _him_? He’ll never convince me. That cat is _dead_.”

“The cat is dead?” gasped Diego, braking suddenly to the side of the road and pointing a knife at her. “Handler, did you fucking kill my cat?”

“There is no cat!” growled the Handler as Klaus exclaimed, “Hey! Since when is it _your_ cat? _I_ let it in!”

“Shut up, Klaus!” they both barked at him.

He crossed his arms and pouted while Diego and the Handler exchanged hostile glares.

“You can’t hurt me, Number Two, so you can stop pretending you’re going to kill me over the death of Klaus’ imaginary pet.”

“If Klaus has an imaginary pet in this house, it’s _you_ , Handler. Don’t hurt the Cat, it’s _my_ cat. If anything happens to it, I’ll murder you along with everyone on this goddamn planet then myself, you hear me?”

“Then I look forward to meeting it,” she mocked with a disdainful tone. “I doubt there could be such an easy solution to ensure my _lifework_ of causing the Apocalypse, but I’ll keep an eye open.”

“Unbelievable!” gasped Klaus, scandalized. “You believe _him_ more than _me_! You know what? Don’t even care if it causes the Apocalypse. Tonight, you’re meeting the Cat, I’m killing it, Diego’ll kill me, God’ll bring me back, you’ll have no choice but to believe me, and more importantly,” he turned his face to his brother, “it’s finally gonna be _my_ cat!”

“Will you stop with your constant madness already?!” scolded the Handler. “You are _not_ getting killed tonight! There is no God and _there is no cat!_ And you’re not dying until I personally sign your assassination contract, is that clear?”

“Don’t you dare lay a finger on the Cat, you fucking prick!” growled Diego at the same time. “I don’t care how many times it’s gonna take, I’ll kill you until it sticks! I’ll just keep stabbing you until God accepts that no one gets away with hurting my cat!”

“It’s not even _your_ cat! How _dare_ you steal other people’s pets? That’s only the best motive for a crime of passion! If anyone’s, it’s _my_ cat!”

“Klaus!” barked Diego. “It’s not your cat, it’s never gonna be your cat. It’s _mine_. It sleeps in _my_ drawers, it follows _me_ everywhere, I took it to the vet, I bought it toys, it’s _my freakin’ cat!_ ”

“Toys! You call the sharp pencils you throw at _my_ cat all day _toys_? One day you’ll really kill it and you’ll have no one to blame but yourself!”

“Enough!” snapped the Handler. “There’s no cat! There is no God, there is no Cat, there is no point to this conversation, no one’s getting killed, now let’s go home already!”

They both looked at her, baffled by her outburst. Finally, Diego snickered, “She’s crazier than you, bro.”

“Don’t I know it,” muttered Klaus, crossing his arms and sullenly looking by the window while they drove away.

At the end of that car ride, nothing had changed.

But when they arrived and went to look for the Cat around the house, all they found was Ben and Wendy the waitress having some naked fun in the library, which was enough of a conversation subject to make them drop all others instantly.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry if this isn't very well written, I had to rewrite it in a rush because I lost the original in a computer crash together with half of the next chapter... but all the rest is still there, I just got inspired to write a few things in the middle.
> 
> Also, I think the translation to what Klaus says in Yiddish is "this is totally happening again". I'm not really sure, I don't speak it?
> 
> Next chapter happens around the Apocalypse due-date! Thank you all for the support btw <3


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